Dead City
by KittyHarvey
Summary: December 23 1960, France holds a Christmas getaway at a ski resort in the French Alps to encourage relaxation during the rising confrontations of the cold war. During a cross country skiing trip Canada, America, France, and England get caught in an avalanche while uncovering a deep dark past that haunts the resort and ends up almost costing them their lives. Look out for the sequel
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Once again I do not own the rights to Hetalia or any of it's characters. No one is intended to be offended by this fanfiction, I tried very hard to give dignity to every country's personification mentioned as well as keeping true to the original series. English translations for French sentences are in brackets directly after the sentence and footnote numbers are the same size as the rest of the text. Unfortunately I cannot change that here. Keep in mind I am not a French Major so the translations into English may not be exact but I tried very hard to make them close enough. There is a sequal out for Dead City known as 'The Return to Dead City' so be on the look out for it.

Chapter 1.

Randstad, Holland, 1945; Weakly stumbling through a small clearing in a wintry forest, extremely weak Netherlands gives everything he has left to flee from Germany's attack. Through the heavy winds around him he could still hear gunfire and loud explosions echoing in the distance, a noise that rattled his very soul.

Not too far away a rescue army swept through the forest undetected, "I think we've lost them, sir."

A General whispered to a young man who stood beside him, armed to the hilt and carefully scanning the area, "Wait… I hear something…" He whispers to several army men behind him as he suddenly spots Netherlands in the distance with the dim sunshine shining behind him, "Is that Netherlands?"

Badly bleeding, and on the verge of starving to death Netherlands suddenly stops, out of breath, and out of energy. Staring ahead of him at the blurred figures before him, his eyes roll back and he fall to the snow like a ton of bricks.

"Oh no!" The young man gasped and runs over to him, "Netherlands? Are you alright? What happened?" As he sits him up in his lap and looked him over, "Oh wow have you gotten skinny…." Only getting a weak moan back the troops caught up to him and guarded the area, "We have to get him out of here quick. Give me your handkerchief…" He asked one of them, "Who did this to you, Sunshine?"

"G-Germany…."

"Germany? I should have known" He replied using the handkerchief to apply pressure on a large wound on Netherlands abdomen, "Quick call for a transport, we're taking him to Ottawa."

The General nodded and immediately started to make arrangements just as the weak Netherlands gained consciousness again, "W-who are you…?"

"His heartbeat is weakening, we're losing him…I'm Canada."1

1 During 1945, the First Canadian Army was responsible for liberating the Netherlands, which they did through battles such as the Battle of Scheldt and the Liberation of Arnhem. The liberation of the Randstad, one of the most densely populated areas in the world, is especially notable because the civilian population there was still suffering from the horrific effects of the _Hongerwinter _('Hungerwinter'). It was cut off from food that was available in the rest of the Netherlands, after Canadian liberation. German forces in the Netherlands would finally surrender in Wageningen, on May 5, 1945, but not before some 18,000 Dutch civilians died as a result of starvation and malnutrition (desperate coordinated air drops of food had already been staged by the Royal Canadian Air Force over German-occupied Dutch territory in Operation Manna.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2.

On December 23rd 1960 a NATO meeting was held in Paris. It was in the middle of a difficult time after the Second World War and during the Cold War, so tensions were still high. Because of this France had the idea of setting up a small vacation after the NATO meeting to celebrate the holidays at a resort on Mount Blanc, nestled deep in the French Alps and near the Swiss border. Many countries outside of NATO were allowed to come as well as long as it was strictly a non violent holiday. It was an attempt to lighten the mood and encourage relaxation, something a lot of countries seemed to desperately need.

I loved the idea myself, deep in my heart I wondered if calming down a little would help end the war sooner but I doubted that would happen. Walking through the bitter cold snow I opened the doors to the restaurant and bar where I promised to meet someone at 9pm. Without thinking twice my polar bear, Kumajirou, brushed past me and wandered over to the buffet table following the scent of fresh blue berry muffins. Over by the fireplace several people were there enjoying themselves when they noticed the breeze.

"Who opened the door?" Belgium spoke up suddenly shivering. Luxembourg looked right at me confused then shrugged, "I don't know."

With a small sigh I looked to the empty bar and found Britain sitting there reading a book about hauntings alone. Netherlands was nowhere to be found. "I guess I'm early."

As I stood next to the swinging door into to the kitchen I felt someone brush past me and walk in but the door never moved. I walked in curious to find the kitchen was closed and there was nobody in sight.

As I got closer I felt a cold breeze hit me in the face as a distant whisper followed it, "_Suivez-moi, France ... dans les arbres ... être avec nous ..._" ("Follow me, France… in the trees… be with us…").

"_Qu'est-ce? Je ne comprends pas_." "(What? I do not understand.") I replied becoming more and more curious. As I walked closer to the back of the kitchen the heavy steel door slowly opened by itself. It wouldn't be the first time someone pranked me on this trip, but the unfamiliar voice spoke French, meaning it couldn't have been America this time. Frankly his French wasn't this good. There was silence for a moment before I heard them again, "_Soyez avec nous ... mourir avec nous ..._" ("Be with us… die with us…").

That was all I needed, I was tired, sore, and had just about enough of this, "_Écoutez, ce n'est pas très drôle."_ ("Listen, this isn't very funny.") I snapped yet almost instantly regretting it when suddenly someone wrapped their hands across my eyes. Without a seconds thought I screamed at the top of my lungs and yanked myself away, "Don't do that. You scared the daylights out of me!"

France covered his mouth and laughed a little, "I'm sorry, I couldn't resist."

"Yeah, but did you have to whisper all those creepy things to me too?"

He stopped and looked back at me like I was an escapee from the mental ward, "Pardon? I didn't whisper anything…."

"Don't play dumb, I know that was you."

"No it wasn't… I was just wondering why you are in the kitchen, it's closed." Now looking concerned he continued, "Are you alright?"

"You…. didn't hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"…The voice… talking about the forest?" I looked out the back door and saw thick trees directly on the other side which didn't calm my nerves.

"How did this door get open? I swear I just locked it." He hummed to himself and closed it with a light shrug.

I shook my head and decided to let it go, no point in trying to figure it all out. I was probably just tired and hearing things. "Never mind, just never mind. I'm probably just tired."

France nodded and changed the subject for my benefit, "Christmas is so romantic. I just love how it makes everyone closer, even for just a few hours. The best part is spending time with the people you love, no?" He smiled again. "I just wish we had enough rooms for everyone instead of having to double up."

Britain heard us talking in the back and curiously snuck into the kitchen, hiding beside the fridge. He could never trust France let alone with either me or my brother America. Without being seen by either of us he closely listened in.

"Oh I actually wanted to tell you that I won't be staying at our room tonight. I'm spending the night with Spain and Romano so you have the place to yourself."

"Oh? I can finally take a shower then." I sighed a little only to have him wrap his arm around my shoulder.

"Why won't you take a shower when I'm around? I'm disappointed….. you are shy aren't you, Mon petite France."

"Uh…. Well you don't knock or anything you just walk right in."

Still hiding in the distance Britain perked up getting angry, "What?! They're sharing a room?... that… that… stay away from the common wealth, Nancy boy!"1 Keeping his distance Britain watched France like a hawk with an angry grimace on his face.

Quickly lighting a cigarette France spoke up again, "…. I was hoping that maybe we could do something together?"

"Well It's been so long since I seen you. You know ever since I started living with Mr. Britain I haven't seen you much at all. I'd like that actually."

France's eyes sparkled a little as he smiled back at me, "Why of course. I wanted to spend Christmas with you too, just like the old days. But you're probably getting too old for that."

Hoping I'd make the right choice Britain whispered to himself again, "Say no, say no, say no…"

"…I'd love to. Christmas is about family isn't it?"

"Vraiment?! You mean it?" Thrilled be briefly rubbed my hair smiling widely, "I miss my little Canada."

"Well I'm not a kid anymore but I kind of miss your company. I mean, lately we've both been so busy and I never get to see you anymore….how about tomorrow?"

"No no, don't listen to him… I thought you were smarter than that…" Britain sulked and lightly banged his forehead against the side of the fridge.

"Well tell me, chere, what's one of your favorite winter activities?"

I had to think about it. Honestly I have so many winter interests it was hard to pick. Where I live winter can be so harsh you had to get used to it or let it kill you. Russia has the same problem so naturally the two of us became one with it. "Well I've really gotten into snowboarding lately."2

He looked a little confused and paused for a moment, clearly never hearing of it before, "Snowboarding?"

"Yeah, America introduced it to me, it's awesome… but if you've never tried it, how about cross country skiing?"

"I love it! I even know the perfect trail; it has the most beautiful view. See you tomorrow at noon perhaps?" He leaned in and kissed me on the cheek, smiling from ear to ear.

"Alright…." I blushed nervously again, "See you in the lobby."

"I knew it, I knew it! … Bastard!" Finally hearing all he could stand Britain sighed and remained hidden, "I'll kill him… that rotten… I'll turn his teeth into dust and curse the day… ugh!"

I brushed past him and stopping when I heard his angry rambles, "Um… Mr. Britain, sir? Are you alright?"

He stopped in his tracks embarrassed he was heard, "Oh, yes well… I'm feeling just dandy. Pardon me a moment…" and returned to the bar trying his best to remain stern and calm.

"I'm sure I missed something…."

1 The modern Commonwealth is an intergovernmental organization of 54 countries, most with historic links to the United Kingdom, and home to two billion citizens, almost 30 per cent of the world's population. It is the world's oldest political association of sovereign states. Members cooperate within a framework of common values and goals. Canada joined the commonwealth in December of 1931. Granted nominal independence (Dominion status) on July 1st 1867. Canada was the first among the several Dominions at the time of the Statute of Westminister 1931.

2 Snowboarding was noted to be invented in Michigan 1963, but there are many reports of young snowboarders as far back as the 1920's.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3.

My earliest memory was of my brother and I sitting along the river bank of the River soon after the other nations started showing up. We were born there. My memory is still fuzzy, but I remember my brother and I were alone for awhile before we were discovered. We were starting to get really scared until a rabbit hopped past us. It really seemed to cheer him up so we played with it for awhile until the rabbit ran off. That's when my brother started chasing it… he got too far away and ended up getting lost. I was left sitting by the river waiting for him to come back… he never did.

My brother was always the stronger one, and tended to get excited often. Not thinking before he acted he got lost and we were separated for a long time. Sometime later was sitting in a grassy field crying when a large black bear, named Kumaichiro, found me. He looked quite threatening but was really a soft lovably guy. He treated me like his cub until someone came along to adopt me, even teaching me how to fish with my bare hands, survival in the woods, and kept me warm at night. I was so young that I really didn't think anything of it; he wasn't a threat to me at all.

I stayed with Kumaichiro until one day a large ship sailed into the Gaspe Peninsula, and that is when I first met Père France1. He was standing alone and holding a map while a large crew was in the distance near the ship. He spotted a toddler, me, who was and playing with a huge black bear without an ounce of fear. "What the…." He gasped confused then tried to creep closer. I sat in the grass and tugged on Kumaichiro's ears when I noticed the stranger getting closer. Instantly becoming protective the bear bit the back of my shirt and started to carry me off with a low warning growl. I was curious about the strange man and swat back at Kumaichiro, "N-no!..." then waved at France, "…Hi!"

The bear stopped walking and nervously let France come closer, confused that I wasn't afraid. Still biting my shirt tightly he watched him closely, ready to pounce if a wrong move was made.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you…" He spoke up still approaching slowly and trying to gain the bears trust, secretly terrified of the massive beast. Only getting another warning grunt back he stopped and took a closer look at me. "I can't believe it? Did Britain abandon you already? That horrible bastard…" It took him a minute to realize who he was looking at, "Wait a minute... oh my god there's two of you." He started to rub his fingers through his hair, "Aren't you the cutest thing… you look just like him, are you twins?"

I looked back at him deeply confused as Kumaichiro let go of my shirt and placed me on the grass again, "Iceland?"

"No dear, I'm France. You met Iceland?" 2

"He couldn't handle General Winter."

France kneeled closer to me and brushed his hair back, "Where's your family, Sunshine? Are all you alone?" Suddenly feeling tears in my eyes I looked away and buried by eyes behind my hands as I started to cry. Instantly feeling bad he picked me up and wiped my tears away, "Don't cry, chere… I can be your family."

"R-really? Like a brother?" I asked shyly not noticing that Kumaichiro was walking away smiling.

"I'll be better than that, I'll be a big brother." France smiled honestly and kissed me before turning around and taking me to his crew.

1 French interest in the New World began with Francis I of France, who in 1524 sponsored Giovanni Da Verrazzano to navigate the region between Florida and Newfoundland in hopes of finding a route to the Pacific Ocean. In 1534, Jacques Cartier planted a cross in the Gaspé Peninsula and claimed the land in the name of Francis I.

2 The earliest known European exploration of Canada is described in the Icelandic Sagas, which recount the attempted Norse colonization of the Americas. Around 1001 AD, the Sagas refer to Leif Ericson landing in a place he called Vinland (possibly Newfoundland). It is unknown why the Norse's did not make a permanent settlement, but it is widely believed that the harsh winters made growing crops difficult to manage.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4.

It wasn't a moment after I left the kitchen when I felt a swift punch in the stomach, "How could you!?"

I gasped for air for a moment and tried to speak up but couldn't.

"If it wasn't bad enough that you're throwing your own Christmas party opposite mine you make the invitations sound threatening! Now no one will come to mine because they're too afraid not to go to yours!" It was a very angry Finland with Sweden standing behind him quietly.

"But… but I…"

"You knew I've been planning this for months. How could you? How could you?"

Kumajirou wandered back to me with a muffin in his mouth, "Fufu?"

Finland took one look at the polar bear and then back at me with an immediate apologetic look, "I got the wrong person didn't I?"

Not knowing what to say entirely I nodded lightly and finally replied, "America is in room 76."1

"I thought he was in 67."2

"No, I'm 67. He's 76."

"I am so sorry! You two look so alike. Well…. Merry Christmas…" He replied embarrassed and blushing, clearly feeling bad for his behavior.

"That's alright, don't worry about it." I paused for a moment getting an idea, "Say, say that America was having a Christmas party too?"

"He's holding his in the ballroom…" He replied still sore.

"Well… Why don't you combine your efforts and make one big party? I'm sure America won't mind… it's always the bigger the better in his eyes."

"That's actually a good idea… but what do I say to him?"

"Well think of something…" Sweden spoke up calmly and patted his shoulder as they wandered off.

I sighed for a moment and looked down at Kumajirou, "When will they get it right? I don't want to get punched anymore…" That's when it hit me, "Are you stealing muffins?" Not getting a reaction besides a low innocent hum, I took it from his mouth, "Please don't do that anymore, I have to pay for those…"

He sighed a bit then hopped to his feet and wandered to the fireplace stones for a quick nap. It didn't take long for Netherlands to chuckle at me with his pipe in his hands and eyes fixated on me, "Prettige Kerstdagen." He patted the seat next to him as he sat at the bar a few seats down from Britain.

I had to admit I was nervous being near him in public, but then I remembered not many people paid attention to me so it really didn't matter. Besides, I can love who I want. It's America's reaction I feared.

As I sat down and felt my heart calm a little he gently moved a tiny silver box with a neat bow on it in front of me. Silent for a moment I looked at him smiling from ear to ear but still confused, "I thought you celebrated Christmas on the 5th?"

"I do, I already gave you a Christmas gift, remember? This is something else."

"You didn't have to do that…"

"You saved my life, fought Germany for me, and not only that you ended the _hongerwinter_ **and** brought my boss and her family to safety when they needed it most. Never in my life have I seen someone negotiate like you. I can never thank you enough."3

Feeling more at ease I fiddled with the tag finding it hard to find the right words to reply with, "Well… you're welcome. It was just the humane thing to do… anyone would have done it."

"I don't think so. Kindness is a rarity these days. Just do me a favor and open it later, you'll know when."

I inched closer to him and quietly asked him a question I have been meaning to ask all day, "What's the hurry? Why can't we meet in your room?"

"Because I'm meeting someone to take me back home. There's an emergency, the Queen has been increasingly ill lately." He looked back at me with a calm gaze but I could tell the crowd in the distance was bothering him, "I already returned the room key but, we still have an hour before my ride gets here." He nodded towards the men's room door that was next to the bar with a light smirk. It wasn't romantic but it was privacy. I brought a bag with me and left it beside his luggage as we walked in and he locked the door from the inside.

"At least it's clean." I smiled taking a small box out of my pocket. His eyes locked on mine then the box and sat next to me with a grin, "Northern Light?"

"Nope, Dutch Dragon." I replied gently placing a gift in front of him wrapped in blue foil paper then started to roll a joint trying not to blush again.

"My favorite kind?" He nodded then paused when I presented him with the gift "What's that?"

"It's your Christmas present silly."

He fiddled with the white ribbon, "….Thank you." He was hard to shop for and hard to know if he was pleased or not, this didn't help my nervousness at all. I could only hope he liked it because he rarely said so. He rarely smiled and appeared like a tall, sullen man who loomed over everyone. I knew on the inside he was a smart guy with lots of hidden emotion. As he unwrapped it in an agonizingly tidy fashion, peeling the tape off one by one then folding the paper neatly, he finally opened the box to find a long blue and white stripped scarf. The only sign I got back from him was a raised eyebrow of curiosity before he put it on and looked at me with smiling eyes, "I love it."

I felt instant relief, "You do? You're so hard to shop for… I thought you'd look so handsome in that."

"…Yeah." He smiled a little as he put it on, "And its good quality too. Thank you."

"You're welcome." I could feel his eyes on me as I finished wrapping the joint and licked the side to hold it together, "…..What?"

"What do you mean I'm hard to shop for?"

"Well you're a quiet grumpy guss and it's hard to find out what you want." When he didn't reply for a moment I had a feeling he was a tiny bit insulted, "It's a quirk. I think it's cute."

"Like you're stubborn and sensitive?"

"Exactly. It's just the way you are." He let me use his lighter to light it up after I couldn't find mine. Once I had a quick inhale I felt a bit better and more at ease allowing a smile to curl my lips as I passed it to him. Of course I didn't notice that I looked around the room first before doing so.

"Why do you do that?"

I was caught off guard because to be honest I didn't notice that I did that at all, "….Do what?"

Putting the joint between his lips he deeply inhaled and held it in before exhaling a large puff of smoke, "Every time we light up you always scan the room first. Marijuana maybe illegal here, but it's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Oh no… it's just that ever since my brother's boss told him about the dangers of this stuff he's been against it. That's an argument I want to avoid like the plague and I don't want him to see me, that's all."

Without a seconds thought he handed it back to me and asked me a question with a serious gaze, "You're afraid of him aren't you?"

How could I possibly reply to that? Taken back I looked away trying to be as honest as I could but I came up with a stammered answer, "Well not any… well…" embarrassed I took another joint and remained quiet not knowing how to reply.

There could have been a million things he could have asked but instead he remained silent and took another puff of the joint. He must have seen how upset it made me and didn't ask any further. I always loved him for that; he actually noticed things about me.

"You know…." He finally spoke up after a few minutes and handed the joint back, "I'll never understand why people keep confusing you two, it's like your identical twins or something."

I nearly laughed out loud at that comment, erasing most of my anxiety as the weed started to take hold of us, "We are."

"Really?... I don't see it."

"Maybe you're the only one who pays attention." I replied hoping he truly meant that.

"How come you don't have the same last name then?"

"…We were raised apart. Britain and France both wanted to encourage individuality, not to be too influenced of off each other. We never dressed the same either."

His eyes watched the smoke emerging from the joint and he cracked a tiny smile feeling more comfortable, "You know I always thought twins were weird. They're mostly portrayed dressing the same way, sounding the same and even feeling each other's pain." He looked at me as he passed it to me, "You guys don't do that, do you?"

"….No…. of course not." I looked away for a brief moment, "I mean the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland don't."

"They're fraternal brother and sister, not identical like you two."

"Why are you so fascinated about this?"

"I don't know… I guess I want to get to know you better."

I sighed a little and gazed at him with a smile, "There's a better way than that."

My heart jumped like a racehorse when he smiled back. I could tell he was thinking I meant something different when he leaned in and kissed me. I didn't correct him though; it was worth seeing his interpretation.

1 Referencing America's independence in 1776

2 Referencing Canada's independence in 1867

3 Following German occupation of the Netherlands, the Dutch royal family took refuge in Canada. Princess Margriet was born in exile while her family lived in Ottawa. The maternity ward of Ottawa Civic Hospital in which Princess Margriet was born was temporarily declared to be extraterritorial by the Canadian government, thereby allowing her citizenship to be solely influenced by her mother's Dutch citizenship.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5.

It was a long time ago but I still remember it clear as day. February 10th 17631 I was a small boy and lived with Père France. I really liked it there, it was very beautiful, bright, and there was always something interesting to do. I was supposed to be working on my studies but I tended to get sidetracked easily. He came home exhausted after a long day of fighting and politics only to hear my cry from the living room in a panic, "N-non ... vous êtes au début! Ne regarde pas!" ("N-no… you're early! Don't look!")

He instantly stopped surprised but peeked through the doorway deeply curious, "Qu'est-ce que tu fais, Soleil?"("What are you up to, Sunshine?")

I didn't want him to ruin the surprise and tried to clean up in a flash, but it wasn't easy. The chair

I moved was heavier than it looked. "…Rien." ("….Nothing.")

"Je sais quand tu parles de culpabilité, ma chère. Qu'avez-vous fait?" ("I know when you sound guilty, my dear. What did you do?") He walked in wide eyed, more thrilled at the thought than what I actually did. Everything under 5 feet was tidied, dusted, and organized, "Vous .. nettoyés?"("You.. cleaned up?")

"Je voulais vous surprendre ..." I shyly replied looking at the floor, "Ne sois pas fou." ("I wanted to surprise you…" "Don't be mad.")

"Je ne suis pas folle du tout ... Je suis ravi." ("I'm not mad at all… I'm thrilled.")

"Vous avez travaillé si dur dernièrement, je voulais faire quelque chose de gentil ..." ("You've been working so hard lately I wanted to do something nice…")

France rubbed his fingers through my hair and chuckled clearly exhausted, "... Tu n'es pas allé à travers tous mes livres que vous avez fait?" ("…You didn't go through _all _of my books did you?")

"Non, mais j'ai réorganisé et saupoudré eux ... ainsi pas les étagères du haut de l', je ne pouvais pas atteindre ceux. J'ai aussi nettoyé les tables et balayé." ("Nope, but I reorganized and dusted them… well not the ones of the top shelves, I couldn't reach those. I also cleaned the tables and swept.") Looking up at him proud of myself I saw a scar on his neck and kept quiet, though still worried.

"Cela a été très attentionné de vous."("That was very considerate of you.")

I ran over to a big picture window and sat at the table underneath it, flipping through one of the books

I stopped at chapter 6, "J'ai également étudié plus. J'apprends beaucoup de choses. Je suis sur le point de lire ... Jeanne d'Arc ... "2 ("I've also been studying more. I'm learning a lot. I'm just about to read about… Joan of Arc…")

France only stared at the page and moved his fingers across the image of the short, armored, blonde girl with a very sad nostalgic smile across his melancholy face.

"Avez-vous la connaissez, Père?" ("Did you know her, Father?")

" J'ai été son Soleil." He said cheering up a little. ("I was her sunshine.")

"Vous m'appelez Soleil." ("You call me Sunshine.")

He kneeled down next to me and flipped the page, "C'est vrai, et un jour vous aussi vous transmettre ce nom à quelqu'un que vous ne pouvez pas vivre sans." ("That's right, and one day you too will pass that name on to someone that you can't live without.")

"Elle était jolie ..." ("She was pretty…")

Looking away from the picture he smiled again and started tickling me, "Que diriez-vous je vous fais ce soir un spécial désert? Je vais même utiliser une partie de ce sirop d'érable, vous aimez tant." ("How about I make you a special desert tonight? I'll even use some of that maple syrup you like so much.")

Laughing with delight I tried to grab his hands to make him stop, "Pourquoi?" ("Why?")

"Pas de bonne action sans récompense va." ("No good deed goes unrewarded.")

"A-arrêter!" ("S-stop it!")

Through the laughter France heard a familiar voice furiously echoing from outside. As he quickly gazed out the window he gasped in shock to find Britain standing in front of his house with a drawn sword and an angry look on his face with a huge army behind him. "Get the hell out of here, you filthy wretch! This ends **now**!" He called from the courtyard.

Shaken from the sudden turn of events I wanted to look out the window to see what was going on but France immediately grabbed my arm and pulled me away from it. "Angleterre…" ("Britain…") He growled under his breath then looked down at me saddened from a sense of dread and was quiet for a moment before kneeling in front of me again desperately trying to think of a plan, "Jouons à cache-cache, d'accord?" ("Let's play hide and seek, alright?")

"... Mais …" ("…But…")

Becoming more stern than I remember him to usually be he held my shoulders tight and looked me in the eye, "Vous allez trouver le meilleur spot se cacher que vous pouvez penser et ne sortait que si je dis

que je ne peux pas vous trouver. Ne pas sortir pour quelqu'un d'autre, vous comprenez? " ("You go find the best hiding spot you can think of and only come out if I say that I can't find you. Don't come out for anyone else, understand?")

I saw him this worried before. It was usually when Monsiour Angleterre was around, he told me to stay far away from him. France hugged me tight before standing back up again and looking towards the window , "Ne vous inquiétez pas, c'est juste un match. Aller se cacher, je vais compter jusqu'à 20 ça va?" ("Don't worry, it's just a game. Go hide, I'm going to count to 20 alright?")

I nodded a silent yes then ran out of the room and went to the safest place I knew. I was also told to stay out of France's room so it had to be nice and safe in there. To me under his bed was the safest place

I could think of. The moment I left the room France grabbed a rifle and a sword from inside a locked box while he loudly counted to 20. I could hear him loading it and walking towards the door with the old wooden floors creaking under his feet. Grabbing the doorknob and swinging it open revealing a lush garden before him he looked into Britain's eyes with fury, "Prêt ou pas ... ici je viens." ("Ready or not… here I come.")

I couldn't remember how long I hid under the bed. I do remember crying silently and covering Kumajiriou's ears from the noise outside. Things got quiet all the sudden which made me think, I was a big country now and should defend myself. I didn't want France to get hurt anymore, but he was so much stronger than me. Climbing out from under the bed I slowly walked over to the window that overlooked the garden and saw Britain and France attacking each other in full wrath. Breathing heavily and tightly gripping his rifle France got back up and yelled back at Britain with a powerful roar, "How dare you? You can't take him away from me… You already took Joan I won't let you take him too…

I won't!"3

"…This is the way it has to be. Don't be a selfish coward and think about what you want… think about him! He would be happier, I know it and you know it!" Britain ran at him one more time and slashed his sword across France's right arm, making him drop his sword and aimed the end of the blade at his throat, "Admit it, you lost…."

With a shaking voice France lowered his head and said nothing for a moment, distraught with the loss, "…Fine… fine… you win…"

I burst into tears and ran through the house, out the door, and into the courtyard to France, "Non! Ne lui faites pas de mal!" ("No! Don't hurt him!")

France had just finished signing something but didn't lift his head. "J'ai pensé que vous nous jouons à cache-cache ..." ("I thought you we're playing hide and seek…")

I didn't care if I was in trouble I did what I thought was right. Hugging his arm tightly and hid my face from Britain who quietly watched us without saying a word. "Mais il vous blesser ..." ("But he hurt you…")

His composure didn't change but he lifted his head finally and looked at me though his messy hair, "Cela a été très vilain de vous. Vous nous sommes censés rester cachés jusqu'à ce que je t'ai appelé." ("That was very naughty of you. You we're supposed to stay hiding until I called you.")

"... Mais …" ("…But…")

"Je ne suis pas en colère contre vous ... vous devriez être en colère contre moi. Je suis désolé Mais vous devez aller avec l'Angleterre maintenant." ("I'm not angry at you… you should be angry at me. I'm sorry… but you have to go with Britain now.")

That was the last thing I thought I would hear him say. I was always told to stay away from him because he was a scary man who would take me away, I was supposed to go with him now? With a quivering lip

I started to cry, "... Qu'est-ce? Mais je veux rester avec vous. " ("... What? But I want to stay with you.")

Scaring me even more France got up and walked backwards away from me, "Moi aussi, Soleil ... Mais nous ne pouvons pas plus." ("So do I, Sunshine… But I can't anymore.")

Having difficulties watching a small child cry Britain said nothing and watched as I became more and more terrified. My père was abandoning me. I got up with tears running down my cheeks and reached up for him like I always did when I wanted him to carry me on his shoulders, "Non ... Tu me fais peur, père France." ("No… You're scaring me, Father France.")

He took one more step back and slowly shook his head, "Jamais je n'oublierai, et peu importe ce ne laissez personne essayer de changer qui tu es." ("Never forget me, and no matter what don't let anyone try to change who you are.") France clenched his fist and dropped his empty rifle to the stones under his boots, "…take him…"

I heard a footstep approach me and spun around fast to see Britain's sympathetic eyes, but I focused on the sword under his belt instead, "Non ... Non je n'irai pas ..." ("No… No I won't go….") I protested and ran for the woods nearby, "Hide and seek… hide and seek!"

France's immediate reaction was to go after me but Britain drew his sword again, "You stay… I'll go."

Weakly eyeing him with furious eyes he growled back in defeat, "I hope your carcass gets eaten by a thousand black birds, you emotionless cretin."

1 On February 10th 1763 France seeded all of its colonies to the British and Canada became a British Colony.

2 Saint Joan of Arc, A.K.A The Maid of Orléans, is considered a national heroine of France and a Catholic saint. A peasant girl born in eastern France who claimed divine guidance, she led the French army to several important victories during the Hundred Years' War, which paved the way for the coronation of Charles VII.

3

Joan of Arc was captured by the Burgundians, sold to the English, and tried by an ecclesiastical court where she was burned at the stake when she was 19 years old. Twenty-five years after the execution, Pope Callixtus III examined the trial, pronounced her innocent and declared her a martyr. Joan of Arc was beatified in 1909 and canonized in 1920. She is-along with St. Denis, St. Martin of Tours, St. Louis IX, and St. Theresa of Lisieux – one of the patron saints of France.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6.

I didn't want to look at the clock. Everything was far too perfect without looking to see how much time we had left. Netherlands wore little but his scarf and I sat on his lap facing him and rested my head on his shoulder exhausted. I slowly opened my eyes right when the doorknob handle jiggled followed by a pounding on the door itself, "Hey, come on, man! Some people need in there too!" America called with a slight urgency in his voice.

Remaining perfectly calm Netherlands pressed his foot against the door to hold is closed, "Use the ladies room, I'm busy."

"What? I can't go in the ladies room, someone will see me."

"Then pee outside, because I'm not going anywhere. Now get out of here…."

"Seriously?! Fine… see if I ever do you a favor." He grumbled and marched off.

Finishing the last of the weed he sighed a little, "I hate it when someone ruins the mood." But paused in the middle of his thought and looked at me, "Are you ok?"

"….Yeah. Just thinking."

"You look like you're about to cry… did you not want to?"

"… No… I did… it's just…" I got off of him and we started to get dressed still hoping he would drop it.

I wanted to focus on happy times.

"Look, that's the same face you had last time… except today you've got a tear in your eye. I deserve to know. What's upsetting you, is it me?"

I instantly turned to him alarmed, "What? No…" burying my face into my hands I sighed to myself and wanted to run away instead of talking about it, "I just don't like being intimate, Ok?"

"Oh… I was hurting you?"

"No… please let it go…" Getting more and more upset is what I think egged him on. He was always like a big brother and could tell when someone was hurt. But being the tough guy he was his first instinct was to find out who did it and seek revenge.

"I can't let it go now. Look… if we're going to go anywhere we need honesty. You fought for me, and now I'll fight for you. Look at yourself, you're crying for god's sake. What's bothering you…." He was standing in front of me and pressed his right hand against the wall, just above my shoulder, and boxed me in. I knew he was trying to help but he only looked more intimidating instead. He was right though,

I know his history so why can't I talk about mine… even if it still bothers me? "Please talk to me. I can see you, you know. You're not invisible."

With a heavy sigh I reached into my coat pocket and felt the ribbon of the tiny package he gave me.

I trust him…. Fine I'll talk. I'll try to at least. "When I was younger someone… invaded me."

I didn't look at his reaction but I could tell a lot about it by the long pause, "…. Who would try and invade you?" He lowered his arm and thought about it until what I meant finally clicked, "It was France wasn't it?"

"…What?…"  
"I'll kill him…." Before I could say something he grabbed his bags and left the mens room too angry to really think. Thank goodness he didn't see France on the way to the exit.

"Netherlands!" I called running over to him and grabbing his coat sleeve as he stood in front of the bar scanning the room for France, "Stop it." His ride was waiting outside, a helicopter that sat idle in the wide open parking lot out front, which meant our time was up and far too soon for my liking, "Please drop it."

"How can I let him get away with it?!" He continued walking outside.

I ran after him and tugged on his scarf and tightened it around his neck just as he got to the other side of the exit, "If you loved me you'd drop it…. _Please_."

"…I don't know if I can let this go…."

"Look you don't know as much about it as you think you do. It's complicated….Just promise me you won't attack anyone for this." I loosened my grip and nearly begged him.

With a heavy sigh he nodded and put his luggage down for a moment, "Alright, I trust you. But I don't want you to be afraid anymore, you hear me?"

"That's asking a lot."

Netherlands grabbed a flask from his coat pocket and uncapped the top as he spoke, "All you have to do is think like a dragon. Japan once said I reminded him of a one. A dragon is a mythological beast that manages to be seen by everyone. They're very powerful and elegant at the same time. It's a strong beast, proud, determined, and not afraid to spit fire at those to be taken seriously." Taking a heavy chug from the flask he put a cigarette lighter to his lips and spit out the alcohol lighting up the sky with a massive breath of fire that made everyone stop and gasp in awe, "If people can't see you, spit fire at them otherwise you'll stay invisible. Think like a dragon." He tossed the lighter at me and smiled with his eyes before heading to the helicopter, "I'll try to make it back when I can. Gelukkig kerstfeest."

I smiled feeling better, it was weird how he could always manage to cheer me up without cracking a smile himself. Think like a dragon… I can do that.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7.

"Non ... Non je n'irai pas ..." ("No… No I won't go….") I protested and ran for the woods nearby, "Hide and seek… hide and seek!" I cried in protest and bolted for the woods nearby. Père France abandoned me and Monsior Angleterre was chasing me. Tightly hugging kumajiriou I just kept running unsure where exactly I was going.

A soft British voice called from the distance clearly looking for me, "Where are you little one? I don't want to play hide and seek."

"S'en aller!"("Go away") I called back breathing heavily and felt the cold stones under my feet as I ran.

"I can hear you laughing you know."

Tripping on a fallen tree branch I fell to the dirt in tears, "Ne me blessez pas, je suis effrayé!" ("Don't hurt me, I'm scared"). Sobbing I hid behind the largest tree I could find and tried to be as quiet as

I could. Footsteps continued to echo through the woods as Britain's boots rustled the stones on the path, but he wasn't running after me. It was a slow calm stride. The footsteps stopped when he got to the tree I was hiding behind, seeing Kumajiriou's tiny foot sticking out from behind the massive trunk,

"Are you over here?" He peeked around the corner and saw me huddled in terror, "Got cha!.. Wait a minute… you're not laughing, you're crying. Our fighting must have scared the daylights out of you, I'm sorry." He continued apologetic, "Do you understand English?"

"…A… a little."

"Don't be afraid. I'm not a monster…" He took his sword and threw it away, "Look I'm not even armed anymore."He outstretched his hand to him, "Come on, I promise things will be more stable from now on."

I inched away from him and continued to cry, hugging Kumajiriou tightly and sobbing into his fur.

"I'm not a monster, I'm sure France said I was. I love children and would never hurt them." He smiled honestly and looked at me trying to gain my trust, "What's wrong?" I said nothing and looked away trying to think, "How about this, you tell me your secret and I'll tell you mine."

I looked at his sword now laying in long grass several feet away and wiped my eyes. His smile seemed genuine. With a whisper I spoke up, "Nobody wants me…."

"What makes you say that?"

I choked on my words still crying and couldn't help but blurt it out to him, "My brother got lost chasing a rabbit… and I never saw him again… then Iceland couldn't handle winter and left me….then France found me but now he doesn't want me either… I'm all alone again… and I don't want to be alone again

because I'm so scared…" he sobbed into Britain's shirt as he hugged him.

Britain sighed and looked into the distance, "I understand, there's nothing worse than feeling alone… it's a feeling I know too well." Wiping a tear off of my cheek with his thumb he smiled at me a little, "Would you like to know my secret?"

I quietly nodded.

"We fought because we both wanted you. I didn't want you to be separated from your brother anymore."

I immediately looked up at him surprised, "My… brother?" He perked up shyly then looked around,

"W-where is he?"

Britain got back up and outstretched his hand towards mine welcoming me, "I'm taking you to see him tomorrow. Unless of course you still want to run away."

I took his hand, still a bit shaken, "You're not going to leave me?"

"It would break my heart if I lost either of you… I promise I won't leave."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8.

I woke up early in the morning to have a shower before I met France at noon. Stepping into my jeans

I stopped in front of the mirror and wiped a bit of the fog off of it to find a young man with waves of dusty blonde hair looking back at me. Quiet blue eyes that were still not awake yet and sore muscles from the pushups I did every morning. As I opened the bathroom door letting the steam escape into the room I saw America sitting on the couch looking at me. He looked just like me except had shorter hair, build and eyes sparkling with confidence. I stopped drying my hair, nearly screaming in surprise to see him there.

"Oh hey, I totally forgot you had a birthmark there." He smirked eyeing my hip.

With a small sigh I continued with my business, "What are you doing here?"

"The door was unlocked." He calmly replied and got up stretching, "Happy Christmas Eve morning! You coming to my party tonight? It'll be awesome!" He confidently waved the invitation at me as I grabbed my black and red stripped knitted hoodie off of the dresser and put it on, "A party, huh? This must be the one Finland spoke of earlier."

"Oh come on, you know you want to go. Everyone else is going to be there." He smiled a little and waited for my response but didn't get one. "You know you're doing it again…"

Catching me off guard I just looked at him confused, "What?"

"You're looking at every too logically again. You're thinking like a robot and not showing any emotion. All you've done is wander around quietly and speak when spoken too. It freaks me out frankly."

"….Why would that bother you? I just don't have a lot to say at the moment… I… well I do but…"

"Face it, you have a ton of pent up anger and pain and you won't let it out for some strange reason. It's just a stubborn view only looking at how things are but why aren't you talking about what you really want and feel? Your life is like a schedule, January 1st this happened… January 2nd this happened… where's the feeling?"

"I just… I don't know… I just can't blurt out emotions all the time, there's a time and place for everything." I sighed getting frustrated with him but knowing deep inside America was right.

"Yeah, and you have yet to find a time or place! Talk for god sakes, say something. Tell somebody what you're all about. Sitting in the corner quietly won't do it."

I was starting to regret not locking the door this time. Balling my fist up tightly I tried to keep calm and not let him get to me, "Maybe you're just not paying attention!"

"There! You see, you're being more descriptive. You're feeling more! Go with that, it's healthier." He paused a little and saw the gifts on the table, the one from Netherlands and a bottle of Cuban rum with red ribbon on it, "Who gave you this?"

I instantly shoved Netherlands gift in my coat pocket next to his lighter and tried to divert the situation by reading the invitation, "Cuba… he sent me some rum and felt bad he couldn't come to the party."

"Cuba? I thought I told you to stay away from him."

"We're just friends that's all." I sighed and continued to pack for the ski trip.

"You have friends? Tell me another one…"

"I do too have friends… lots of them. Ukraine, South Korea, Britain, France, Denmark, Iceland, Belgium…. Netherlands! Just because I don't always tell you about it doesn't make it not there. I too have feelings; sometimes actions mean more than words!"

"I knew I could make you show emotion." He smirked, "I knew I could break that shell!"

Sighing deeply I buried my face into my hands to think for a moment. He wasn't being intentionally aggressive; he was just trying to help. Am I too rigid? Do I really not show my feelings enough?

Well that might be true, maybe I'm not comfortable bearing my feelings for the world to see. I'll show him, actions mean more than words. I don't care if I come off too silent or expressionless, there are people who really get it. I can say nice things until I'm blue in the face but that's not effective to me. I'd rather physically do something to help them, really go out there and do it. It's not what is being said it's what's being done. "Say… Pere France and I are going cross country skiing at noon…. Did you… want to come with us maybe?"

He perked up a little and thought about it, "Actually that sounds awesome. I'd love to! I should go get my ski's, that's in half an hour right? Why did you invite all the sudden though?"

"Just a thought that struck me, don't worry about it. I'm sure France won't mind if you come."

He left the initiation on the desk and headed for the door, "If you say so. I'll meet you there, later bro."

The door quickly shut again as several thick snowflakes flew in and hit the carpet. Putting on my coat

I looked to Kumajiriou who sat on the bed munching on a chunk of fish, "I'm going skiing, bud. I'll be back by supper. You're probably going to sleep all afternoon anyways."

"…." He lightly whimpered and fell over on his back clearly tired.

"We won't be long; we'll be back in time for the party."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9.

When I was little my brother and I hung out sometimes, but we didn't always get along. Most of the time he got bored quickly and forgot I was around. I remember standing in a massive field of rolling grassy hills during a beautiful sunny day. We were little kids and Britain was walking with us enjoying the breeze himself when America started to run ahead of us, "Come on, I found something really awesome!" He cheered happily.

I paused and looked to Britain silently asking for permission, "It's okay, go on ahead."

With that I chuckled a little and tried to run after him, "Wait for me!" I cried seeing him getting a bit farther ahead. Suddenly I tripped on a rock and scraped my knee on the ground as I fell.

Almost instantly America stopped running, "….Your knee." He was too far ahead to hear me or see me fall but somehow he just knew it. Running back over to me he tugged on my sleeve, "Are you ok?"

"Yeah…" I muttered, "You run too fast."

"No I don't, you run too slow. It's so close!" Still clinging to my sleeve we walked over to the spot. Before us was a massive dead tree, twisting and reaching for the sky like it was a monster digging itself out of the ground. "Isn't it neat?" He asked running to the base of the tree, "I found it first so it's mine!"

Kumajiriou and I looked up the tree from the base as America started to climb it. "C-can I climb your tree too?"

He stopped about a quarter of the way up and thought about it for a second, "Um…. Okay."

Cheering a little Kumajiriou stayed at the bottom of the tree, hating heights, and I started to climb happily. "It's such a great view, huh?" America called from one of the higher branches. From there he could see the whole valley.

"It's really neat." I relied finally making it to the same branch and sat down next to him.

He snapped a twig off and watched it fall to the ground with a smile, "You're a good friend."

"I'm you're bro…" I started to say but was interrupted,

"I like you. We should be together forever."

"Yeah, forever."

"You really promise?"

"Yup."

Britain finally caught up to us but didn't see where we went until the twig hit the grass by his feet. Instantly floored he called up to us worried, "America and Canada! What on Earth are you doing up there? It's dangerous!"

"Isn't it neat!?" America cheered looking down at him happily. Neither of us saw the danger of the situation that Britain did.

"No, it's not neat! You're far too young to be climbing trees!"

I, however, felt bad and started to climb down, "I'm sorry."

"Stay right there, I'm coming to get you."

"I don't want to come down." America muttered a little standing up. But as Britain started to climb a strong wind gushed past us, made him lose his balance and fall out of the tree.

"America!" Britain cried in terror, jumped off the tree caught him in mid air and landed on the grass with a heavy thud. Shaking a little America opened his eyes and found himself sitting on Britain's chest, "Wow, that was a good catch!"

"Thank you…" He moaned and got up holding him in his arms, "Never do something like that again, understand?"

"Aw it's ok. You're always there to save me."

"That's not the point." He looked up at me and saw me trying to climb down nervously.

I felt a hand grab the back of my shirt and yank me off the tree, "Ahh! I'm sorry!" Only to be put down on the grass.

"Come on, lads. Let's get going." He sighed and led us away from the tree.

"Canada says we're friends." America cheered as Britain out him down again.

"…Brothers…" I whispered, "We're brothers."

"Friends forever! I have a friend now, do you?" He looked back up at Britain not hearing what I said.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10.

Calmly waiting in the lobby I sipped on a cup of coffee and waited for everyone to arrive. France was fashionably late as always. "Bonjour, mon petite chatton!" He called approaching me with a set of skis and wearing a brilliant purple ski suit. "It's good to see you, such a beautiful Christmas Eve so far, non?"

He hugged me and lugged the skiis over his shoulder, "Ready to go?"

"Hey… you're in a good mood this morning." I chuckled nervously but before I could even finish his sentence Britain appeared behind us, also with a set of skis, "Let him have some air and go molest someone closer to your age… like an elm tree."

"Excuse me?" He jolted back deeply offended, "You're the one following me. I can't believe you've gone to stalking now, how pathetic."

"I'm not stalking you, this is a ski resort. Anyone can ski whenever and where ever they like. Besides,

I thought you were going skiing with Canada, why is America here?" He glared back protectively.

France took a moment and started laughing rather hard at that, "This is Canada. Le cerveau il etait en option chez toi" ("The brain was optional for you")

"What? Well how can you always tell, then?"

"Because of his hair, he looks just like me."

"He does not…"

"He does from the back."

I lowered my head and started to get angry at them knowing it was harder to split up these two than to split atoms, "….Guys?"

Shaking his head with a low giggle France continued, "If you want to come its fine with me, we might have to slow down to allow you to catch up."

"What exactly are you implying?"

"I'm implying that you're slower than a heard of turtles stampeding through peanut butter."

I tried to speak up again but nobody heard what I said, "Guys, maybe you should stop fighting, everyone is starting to stare…"

"You're not interested in skiing; you just don't trust me… "

"Of course I don't trust you! I wouldn't trust you to take care of a dead hamster."

"Why? What have I ever done?"

Britain hoisted his skiis on to his shoulder intentionally barely missing France's head, "Name it."

"Guys please!" I yelled louder, "It's Christmas, the season of peace and understanding."

"Don't worry, guys, the hero made it. Let's go skiing while there is still some fresh powder."

"Oh you made it, France I asked if he could come with us. I hope you don't mind." I said trying anything to change the subject.

Letting go of Britain he fixed his hair and returned to his usual pleasant posture, "Of course, the more the merrier, it's been awhile since I could spend Christmas with either of you."

"Are you sure?" I couldn't help but wonder if I did something wrong by inviting him.

"Trust me, I like the idea." He patted my shoulder to Britain's discontent. Now that both of us were here there was no way he was staying behind. I always knew that Britain was still sore at France for helping America gain independence.

"Wonderful, we should get going then." America smiled cheerfully and led the way to the exit, "Is snowed this morning so there is lots of new fresh powder to work with."

"As long as we're going to be back by 5, there is supposed to be a big snow storm heading this way." Britain spoke up with a touch of worry in his voice. Of course France didn't let the chance to tease him go.

"Don't worry; if you become slow I'll drag you back by the eyebrows."

"Shut it or I'll shove an icicle down your throat!"


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11.

It was a cold April evening in 1775 when trouble started to brew. I was sleeping when a cold wind rushed into the room, startling me awake. I sat up and looked around for my glasses only seeing a fuzzy figure in my room with a heavy bag in their hands. My alarm lowered when it turned out to be America, "Psst.. hey…" He silently whispered to me, trying to be as quiet as possible.

I put my glasses on and lit the room with a candle next to my bed to find him all dressed up for war and had a serious gaze, "Huh… What's going on?"

"I'm out of here." He said clearly frustrated, "I'm tired of Britain's rules and I'm declaring war on him."

"What? War?! How can you start a war against Britain? Are you mad? There must be another way."

"No way. I'm done talking, and I'm out of here. I'm going out on my own and becoming independent. You know, freedom? Come on let's go." He continued confidently and headed for the open window to keep watch.

"… I'm not going with you. I'm staying here; I don't want to have any part of this."

He paused for a moment in utter shock and spun around fast, "What do you mean you're not coming? You're against me?"

"No I'm not against you but…"

"My own best friend is against me… I thought we'd be together forever. Fine then… take sides with Britain… at least France backs me up." He muttered heading for the window to leave angrier than when he arrived.

"Stop, listen to me. I'm not taking sides, I'm…." But it was too late. The window was slammed shut and he already left, "You can gain independence without war…. Oh God, now what?"


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12.

The sun was shining and the snow glistened with a brilliant sparkle. France, America, Britain, and

I calmly skied through the trail and enjoyed the sights of the beautiful French Alps. It was just what I was wanted but it wasn't entirely what America expected. "THIS is cross country skiing? It's so boring;

I thought I'd be racing you guys down some double diamonds or something."

"It's supposed to be relaxing…" I spoke up and looked to the sky enjoying the brisk fresh air.

"Exactly, mon cher, this is a long distance vigorous workout that really trims and tones your muscles. You should try it more often."

For once Britain agreed with France, "I'm enjoying it actually; it's a wonderful way to enjoy nature and get away from the chaos of the city." Quietly taking a flask from his coat pocket he went to untwist the cap when America snatched it from him,

"I don't think so. You can drink at the party. If you're drunk you won't show up for it."

"Britain sober? That'll be a first." France chuckled to my dismay. Keeping them from fighting would be my new hobby today I can just see it coming.

"That's it, you're asking for it, Nancy boy! You want me? Right now!"

With only a laugh he raised his eyebrow at him, "Are you coming on to me?"

"I wouldn't fight if I were you. We're in avalanche territory and if there is a loud enough racket it'll set one off. We have to be quiet."

"He's right you know." America finished my thought and slipped the flask into his coat pocket, "You guys can be nice for a few hours, can't you? You can be like us; we don't fight all the time." He confidently wrapped his arm around my shoulder.

I couldn't help but give a grimace back, "Y-yeah…"

Britain nodded as we kept skiing through the trail, "I can be nice, but the moment I get back to the resort I'm kicking your ass." The only reply France gave was blowing a kiss back at the notion.

Sometime later America stopped skiing and looked around the nearby woods confused, "Did you guys hear that?"

I stopped and looked back at him, "I didn't hear anything."

"I was this low growl…."

"Could have been a bear. They are in this area." I replied continuing on with him.

"No… it sounded human. Come on, you had to have heard that, it was louder than an exploding nuclear plant!"

"Could be ghosts." France chuckled but Britain chimed in interested in the subject.

"Actually I was reading about this area last night at the pub. Apparently it's haunted by a Cult that lived deep in the woods around here."

America's face went from a healthy tone to a pale white one once ghosts were mentioned, "…You don't say."

"Apparently they worshipped the dead believing that ghosts were the true phase of existence and we were upsetting God by allowing ourselves to live for so long. The records say some of them committed mass suicide along the highway in protest but their homestead named Dead City was never located. This area has been said to be haunted ever since."  
France shrugged not believing ghosts and replied with a comment that didn't ease America's nerves, "That explains why the owner got the land for so cheap."

"This place is haunted?! Why didn't it say that in the brochure?! We should probably turn back, guys." He jolted slowly becoming terrified.

"Look just because a book says its haunted doesn't mean it is. Lots of times they make up stories like that to make the area popular for tourists." I patted his shoulder trying to help, "It's just a camp fire horror story."

Feeling a shiver up his back he put his foot down, "Fine. But at the first sign of spirits I'm out of here, got it?"

"You believe in ghosts, don't you, Canada?" Britain asked me looking over his shoulder.

"I believe if I can see it and touch it then its real."

"So that's a no then."

"I'm agnostic. I just need hard evidence, that's all."

"It was a fascinating read; I should have brought it with me."

"Will you shut up about the story? How about we talk about something else…." America cut him off looking over his shoulder as well nervously not wanting to be the one trailing at the back.

I stopped for a moment and zipped my coat up a little higher to mask the cold when I realized something, "Um… America…."

"It really is nice here though. The ski resorts at in the Rockies are gorgeous too, you guys ever been there?" He continued trying to change the subject,

"…America?"

"There is a certain pristine beauty about the alps. They're like a painting, non?" France sighed with a smile and gazed at the mountain closest to us that reached towards the heaven like a white giant.

"You've been to the Rockies too though right?"

"Hello!"

"Huh?" He turned around and looked at me curious, "There you are, hurry up you're trailing behind us."

"You are not dressed warm enough at all." Treading onwards I couldn't help but point it out, "You're not wearing anything over your jeans and the jacket isn't warm enough I can tell."

"Thanks, mom, but I'll be fine. We'll only be out for a couple of hours, besides you want to look impressive too, not just for comfort like you."

"What?!" I gasped wanting to give him a what for but I froze up instead, "It's not just about comfort, it's about warmth, it gets incredibly cold here at this time of the year."

"You're being a worry wart again. You just need to pick up the pace a little, gain some muscle!"

"Oh… you… you…" I muttered I anger but was cut off once more as Britain has just about enough.

He looked right at me frustrated, "America, that's enough. It's not a competition."

I didn't even say anything to that, I just sighed as America raised his hand, "I'm over here, man."

"What? But… oh, bullocks, just knock it off, will you?"

"Still can't get them right…" France smirked a little enjoying every moment as he lead the way.

"You shut up!"


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13.

April 27th, 1812. I weakly approached Britain wounded and sore, with burn marks all over my uniform and almost using my rifle as a crutch. Furious and terrified at the same time I approached him while he was talking to two of his bosses representatives, "Mr. Britain….sir…?"

He didn't hear me at all and kept talking. I was angrier than I have been in a long time. Clutching my fist into a tight ball I raised my voice to scream, "Monsiour Angleterre!"

That instantly got his attention, "Will you gentleman excuse me? I'm being called." As he turned around he went wide eyed in shock and disgust at how beaten up I was, "Oh my word… what in bloody hell

happened?!"

Still clenching my fist I nearly growled through my teeth, "He… he attacked me."

"What? Who attacked, I don't understand."

"He attacked me…. He took _it_ from me… he just invaded and burnt York to the ground, not just businesses but houses too!"

Britain held his hand to his mouth for a moment unsure how to react, "Oh my god… I am so sorry, he'll pay for this. I swear we'll get him back."

"I want to burn him… burn him alive for this." I raged with a tear in my eye I was so angry and could almost seeing him look back at me in fear, "I'll burn everything he holds dear… he took my capitol… I'll take his."


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14.

"Looks like we hit a fork in the road…" France muttered looking on ahead pondering.

"Hey guys, look!" America cried out having stopped in front of an old sign with newly painted arrows pointing to the right, "Homme mort route….les skieurs méfiez-vous." Trying to read it as best as he could he looked to France, "What the heck does that mean?"

I looked at the writing and calmly spoke up reading it without thinking about what it said, "Dead Man's Road."

Scanning the map France eyed the trail ahead of him trying to figure something out. The trail split into two right after the sign, the left one leading down the side of the hill towards the trees and the right one into a trail that was carved into the side of a mountain, "That's Homme mort route alright but…."

"That's it!" Britain spoke up, "Dead Man's road! That was the trail that the Cult was said to take to head to their homestead. It's said to be the most haunted spot in the area, It was even named after the legend because of how many reports they received of ghost sightings there."

"That's it, no way! There is no way I am taking that trail. We're going this way…." America stopped in immediate protest.

France heard a crack in his spine as he stretched "But that that trail adds an extra 4 kilometres . Homme mort route is a shortcut. I'm not feeling energetic enough to go an extra 4 kilos." He and Britain looked at each other then the map almost silently agreeing with each other.

"Then why don't we take the shortcut to together? It won't be so bad if we're not alone." I shrugged trying to think when America took my idea and ran with it,

"I got it! France and Britain take the short cut and Canada and I continue on the trail. We're young and we can handle it. We'll meet when the paths join up again and we'll make it in time for the party."

"Huh? Bu-"

He took my arm before I could make an input and waved, "See you later. Wait for us alright?"

Seeing France and Britain look at each other again then waved at us back I just had to ask, "D-do you think it's a smart idea to leave France and Britain alone together? They kind of hate each other's guts."

"Oh they'll be fine; they'll have the time of their lives."

"I guess that settles it, we better get going." Britain nodded as he and France took the trail carved into the side of the mountain, "Do you think it's a good idea to let them go off on their own?"

"They'll be fine, chere. You worry too much, they're adults." France waved it off and continued on with him.

"They're teenagers and they don't get along very well, you know that."

He paused for a moment and gave him a death glare, "Of course I would but YOU took them away from me!"

"Oh don't get back on with this sob story again, that was the past."

"And we would have had a future if you didn't take him away! You're nothing but a jealous lying conniving beast who wants' everyone to be as miserable as you are!"

"Excuse me?" Stopping himself he turned around but instead of trying to fight back he took a deep breath remembering what I said, "We can't fight… remember? The shouting might cause an avalanche."

"Yeah…. Good idea."

Without saying another word Britain slid his ski pole under France's knee and tripped him to the ground, "That's for calling me a beast…."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15.

Sometime later America and I were continuing through the trail that went on a down slope through the trees finding that it had suddenly got too quiet. Not being a fan of silence he spoke up to start a conversation, "So where were you last night? I was trying to find you but gave up."

"Um…. I spent the evening with Netherlands." I replied keeping a few strides behind him.

"Netherlands? He was in the mensroom of the restaurant all night, wasn't he?"

Sighing a little I nodded, "Mhmmm."

It took him a moment or two before he realized it, "Wait a minute, you were in the bathroom with him, weren't you?"

'Remember' I told myself, 'Think like a Dragon' Looking back at him I snapped back hating how he was getting too nosy again, "Yes… why does it matter?"

"Look, I'm just looking out for you. He's a tough guy and could easily take you over. He could be playing you on you know. Just don't get too close to him, got it?"

"Why do you always have to approve of my partners?" By this point we had stopped skiing and were staring each other down. He saw the anger in my eyes and I saw the determination in his.

"Who's asking about partners …." He paused for a moment, "Wait a minute, you two were smoking weed in there, weren't you?"

I didn't say anything at first. I just stared him down not knowing how to reply, "Among other things. It's none of your business, besides you don't see me digging into your private life with South Vietnam…"

"You leave South Vietnam out of this, she's having trouble with her sister and she doesn't need any trouble from you!" He pointed at me with and instantly got defensive, "I want you to stay away from him. I wouldn't want to go and save your ass again like I tried to do with Britain. But you didn't want help then and clearly don't want it now!"

The clouds grew a bit darker as it started to lightly snow around us, "Save me from Britain? What are you talking about?"

"Well I tried to help you get freedom just like me but you didn't want it. Look at you, you're still his colony and you'll never be independent. He simply won't let you go and you won't grow up and leave him either." He frowned a little and looked back at me sternly.

Through the wind I heard a strange voice whisper in my ear, a frosty voice of an older man with a French accent, _"He's trying to take over again…."_

"Wait a minute I am independent!"1

The voice whispered to America this time trying to encourage a fight, _"He's always been so stubborn."_

"No, you're not." He started to yell and pointed right at me, "You've been trying for years to ask nicely and not make ways, and it's not going to work. He'll never let you go and you won't stand up for yourself and fight. This is why I have to look out for you!"

"I really care about Britain, and it would shatter his heart if I left the same way you did. Your little act nearly killed him… I can't do that again!"

The voice whispered a little louder into my ear but I was too angry to question it, _"He never loved you."_

"There you go defending Britain again; I knew you took his side." America called back throwing his gloves to the ground in anger, "You wouldn't even support your own big brother!"

The voice whispered to America again_, "He cared about everyone but you….Kill him"_

"I did support you… I just didn't want to get involved in another pointless war…." Pausing for a moment

I caught something he said, "Big brother?! We're twins, moron!"

"Yes, but I'm far stronger and that makes me the big brother here. Besides, I still think you're better off with me!"

"Oh that's it!" I screamed and tackled him to the ground furious, "Stop trying to control me!"

On the other trail and higher up the mountain Britain, who was slightly ahead of France, stops in his tracks, "Did you see that?" He exclaimed pointing further down the trail.

"See what?" France looked around and saw nothing out of the ordinary.

"Over there, I swear I seen… seen an old lady in a long white jacket who was hiding in the bushes."

This didn't settle well with France and he looked back at him like he finally lost his mind, "Maybe you've been out in the sun too long…"

Through the stronger wind a female voice whispered to Britain as if they were standing right beside him, _"Finish him, and make it look like an accident."_

"Idiot, I'm not crazy. I know what I saw."

"I'm sure you did, but you have to admit how disturbing this looks on my end."

Continuing to egg him on the voice whispered to Britain again_, "Go on, kill him."_ But he lost his temper and turned to the empty space next to him and cried out, "Stop telling me what to do, damn it."

Realizing he had just yelled at air Britain calmed down and looked to France who was honestly starting to worry about him, "I think something is seriously going on here. Here's a voice whispering to me trying to get me to kill you."

"Like you need encouragement to kill me…" He moved closed and started looking around for any sign of human interaction but came up empty handed.

The voice spoke up to Britain once more but sounded far angrier, _"You shouldn't have broken up. You should have taken the short cut."_

"Taken the short cut…." He immediately turned to France, "Quick give me the map!"

"Don't freak out on me, it's right here." France handed it to him still confused not seeing or hearing anything Britain was.

Taking it from him quickly he studied the fork in the path and made a horrifying discovery, "Here… what does that say?"

France leaned in and looked at a faint name written alongside the mountain trail just after the fork, "Sentier a flanc de montagne… Mountainside trail, that's the name of the trail we took."

"Exactly…. We are the ones who took the trail and Canada and America are the ones who took Dead Man's Road. The sign back there was pointing the wrong way! They took the shortcut and don't know it."

This time they both heard the mysterious voice, echoing in anger from between them, _"If you won't fight and perish… the boys will."_

"What? What the hell does that mean? You leave them alone, do you hear me?" Britain roared with a quiet anger, still trying to keep quiet due to the heavy snow above them.

France's face grew pale at the thought of what Britain was seeing was very real, "….Oh my god you were telling the truth…."

Suddenly a loud roar came from the distance followed by a rumble above them. The snow lying on the overhang above them started to shift, "AVALANCHE!" France screamed and jumped Britain to the ground, "Get down!" A massive amount of snow rushed off of the cliff above their heads and fell down the side of the mountain.

I screamed and tackled America to the ground furious, "Stop trying to control me!" Boiling with rage

I couldn't help myself as we ended up in a full out brawl, "I knew it, I knew you were trying to take over again."

"Don't start with that again, you know I can't leave you alone. You can't talk your way out of everything! Face it, if I disappeared you'd go with me!" He yelled back kneeing me in the stomach and throwing me over his head. We fought for several minutes, just fighting furiously without even taking our skis off. Although he was a bit stronger than me I fought him back with everything that I had to show I had strength too.

"You never listen to me!" I cried out after awhile and got back up sending a punch right back at him but it didn't knock him down.

"There... You see?! You are a hypocrite! All the sudden you're all for fighting, why didn't you grow a set of balls when Britain laid down the rules? You have no problem fighting me!" He screamed back at me and punched me in the stomach so hard I almost couldn't breathe for a moment.

"You're fucking dead!" I gasped kneed him in the stomach and sent a flurry of fists at him not wanting to hear anything else he had to say.

"You care about everyone except me!" He yelled back did just as I struck him in the jaw. There was a rumbling in the distance but we didn't notice it at first. It wasn't until America spun me around and slammed me against a tree when he saw it. His eyes went wide and instantly let me go. A massive wave of snow was crashing down the side of the mountain and we had little time to get out of its way. "AVALANCHE!" He screamed in terror.

I didn't believe him at first, thinking it was a rouse to get me to turn the other way, until I saw the fear and panic in his eyes. That's when I saw it; a massive wall of snow was crashing in the distance and straight for us. Grabbing out ski poles our first instinct was to out run it. In a matter of seconds we went from trying to kill each other to fighting for our lives.

"Oh god it's my fault, I was yelling too loud." I cried as we sped down the slope trying everything to gain speed, "I knew I shouldn't let myself get angry!"

"Don't worry about that now!"He replied trying as hard as he could but we just couldn't move any faster, "We're not going fast enough!"

"These are cross country ski's they're not built for downhill skiing!"

"You've got to be kidding me!?"

Trees spend past us like a blur. There was no room for error and I tried to think but I couldn't. The snow was traveling a lot faster than we were, "We have to move to the side of the avalanche, we won't out race it. Quick ski to the right!"

Dodging trees and trying everything to gain speed he nearly lost it and a tree branch sliced into his arm. Screaming in pain he regained his composure and kept going with a heavy grimace as blood ran down the side of his jacket. The second I heard him scream like that I looked over my shoulder at him instinctively to check on him, "Are you alr…." But before I could finish my sentence I slammed into a large tree.

My knee bounced off of the trunk and a large heavy branch struck me in the forehead at full speed sending a wave of pain I have never felt before. Falling to the snow like a ton of bricks a small stream of blood stained the snow as I slid a bit down the mountain before stopping at an even larger tree.

"Canada!" America screamed like bloody murder and stopped right beside him, "Come on we have to go!" He cried grabbing the limp arm and didn't hear a reply. Instead he saw me retching in pain and knew this was it. Instead he went to his knees, wrapped his arm tightly around me, leaning my wounded forehead into his jacket, and clung to the tree with his other arm bracing for impact. As the snow hit them with incredible force America was strong enough to hang on with everything he had. If he let go it was game over.

1 Although Canada celebrates independence on July 1st 1867, the road to total separation from Britain continues to be slow. The Statue of Westminster in 1931 gave Canada completely legislative independence from the Parliament of the United Kingdom. In 1965 their own national anthem was created instead of "God Save the Queen." Finally in 1985 Canada got its own constitution.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16.

Sometime later France awoke in a heavy daze, covered in a blanket of snow and was lying on top of a passed out Britain. Lightly chuckling he brushed the snow off and tried to get up but the moment he looked around and saw what happened it finally hit him, "Snow?... Snow! Britain get up!" Britain lightly moaned, feeling heavy and weak for a moment. Slowly opening his eyes he shifted as France started to dig them out, "Come on, mon amis, get up! There's no time to lay around."

Shifting slightly Britain fully gained consciousness, "Oh bullocks… what happened?" he got up helping France push the mounds of snow off of them and saw the extent of the damage for himself. The snow had slid off of the mountain above them and covered the side of the tunnel leaving them in a large air pocket. Because the trail was carved into the mountain the snow rushed off of the ledge above them instead of burying them alive.

"The avalanche took out the trail…" He gasped backing up and grabbing France by the collar of his jacket, "Do you have any idea what that means!?"

"Our oxygen is getting low and we need to dig out of here." He yelled back. The two were clealy in shock from the whole situation, and neither had any idea how long they've been unconscious for.

"No idiot! My boys were down there! The trail they were on was directly beneath ours and the snow went right for them. They could be crushed under that snow for all we know!"

France paused when everything suddenly became very real. "We have to get out of here and go find them." Turning to the trail there was a chunk of snow blocking their path, "We can dig our way out but we have to be careful about it, if we do it the wrong way the snow on top of us will bury us in a thick white casket." Taking Britain's coat sleeve they bolted and immediately started to dig themselves out, terrified of what happened. However, there was something France had to bring up, something he never heard Britain say in a long time, "So you're starting to think America is your little brother again?"

Britain rolled his eyes a little and sighed hoping he wouldn't catch the slip up, "I already thought that… I'm just finally admitting it that's all. Now shut it and start digging."


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17.

Nearing the end of the war of 1812 Britain and I faced America in a standoff. We were just teenagers and aiming bayonet's at each other with Britain standing next to me. "I want this manifest destiny thing to end now!" I screamed keeping my gun aimed right at his forehead.

"What are you talking about? I know you want to leave Britain. You're better off with me, I know it and you know it." America yelled back aimed right back at me, "And then you burn my bosses house down? What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"You and your army invaded York! You not only burned political buildings but you burned homes and warehouses too! You're wondering why I am angry? You are seriously wondering why I burned the Whitehouse? You destroyed my capitol and tried to take me over!"

"It was the only way I could attack Britain!"

"Oh that's it!" I snapped and ran right for him in an unseen mad fury, "You sick, disgusting pile of maggot larva!" I screamed kneeing him in the stomach then the face before kicking him to the ground, "What is wrong with you?!"

He just looked back at me, out of character, and completely blinded sided by my anger, "Cana…"

"Let me finish!" I screamed back, "When you went to war against Britain for independence I asked NOT to be involved and you didn't listen. Instead you attacked me and were shocked that I turned down your proposal. When you went to war against Britain again I asked not to be involved and you didn't listen and attacked me again!"

"But…"

"You destroyed York and invaded me! You took that purity from me that you can never give back. Why would you think that would persuade me to accept your proposal? How can you turn the phrase "please leave me out of it" and turn it into "take me with you"? How can somebody misread the atmosphere that badly?"

"You were my best friend, we were supposed to be together forever and you leave me to defend myself alone? Twice? You were supposed to help me, we were friends and now we're enemies!"

"I am your brother!"

Stunned he just stopped all thoughts he had and stared at me, "I… You're… since when?"

"When we first met as children I tried to tell you but you got bored and walked away. Ever since you've been blinded by a combination of not listening and forgetting that I exist. You're not an idiot but how could you not know? I look just like you!"  
He let go of his gun as I lowered mine and took a step backwards, "I didn't mean it like that, I didn't know, I was confused, I thought…."

"I hate you!" I screamed back not interested in his excuses, "I was happier before I met you, I was happier before you stuck your nose in my business. All I wanted was for you to listen to me! Even just once, just listen! But now look at us, now we're at each other's throats. Is that what you wanted? Ever since I've been terrified that you will try to take over again because if you did that would be the end of me. Now I'll never be the same again. You ruined my life!"  
"Canada, I'm sorry."

"And if you ever touch me again, in any way, you will lose me as a brother and as a friend." With that

I dropped my bayonet and took a deep breath, "And you're lucky you haven't done that already!" My voice dropped once again and I looked to the ground at the gun then at him with tears in his eyes.

I never saw someone as strong as him in tears before, "This is why I hate war…. It changes people."

"Canada, I'm sorry! I'll make it up to you, I promise!" He cried as I walked away but I was done talking.

As I walked away Britain followed me without saying a word. He either didn't know what to say or didn't want to get in the middle of us again. That is why I hate war.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18.

Sometime later everything was silent and white, with only a cold wind whistling through the trees. Breaking through the silence was light struggles buried underneath the heavy snow as a hand clung to the side of the massive tree and gripped a branch to yank himself up. "Come on…" He groaned lifting the suddenly limp brother with him, "Help me out here, bro." Absolutely exhausted Alfred emerged from the snow and finally crawled away from the sink hole that was almost their grave. He laid his brother next to him and fell back in the snow to catch his breath. "I did it…. We made it… oh my god…" America gasped breathing heavy and clung on to his sore bloody arm, "I bet nobody will believe this, right? It'll be a story to tell our kids." As he turned his head to Canada he took a first glimpse of the damage he took. He covered his mouth in shock and disgust as he leaned in closer and saw a large chunk of Canada's forehead was cracked and bloody with some light pink flesh shining through the wound. His glasses were smashed up and his knee was slightly turned the wrong way, "On my god, how did you survive that! I can see the bone…" America paused for a moment when he realized that he didn't get a response, Canada wasn't breathing. "Oh fuck breathe!" Immediately dashing to his side he started CPR and pressed down on his chest with his fists counting, "One…two…three…four…five… Come on breathe!" and exhaled as much as he could into his mouth with no response, "Please breathe, don't do this to me, man." America continued for several minutes, growing more and more alarmed at the lack of a response. "Please don't give up… you promised we'd be together forever… you promised." Finally when he was about to give up Canada whimpered before coughing violently, "Don't ever do that again, do you hear me?" He gasped just glad to see him move again, "It's not funny to tease me like that."

Turning his head to the side Canada coughed and gasped for air, instinctively reaching for his forehead. Shaking uncontrollably he finally started to mutter something, "Oh god it hurts…."

"I know it does." Not getting a response at first he took his brother's smashed glasses off and subconsciously hung them on a snapped tree branch behind him, "You can hate me forever for this but

I have to." Thinking back to his medical training during the war he gently felt along his chest, arms, and hips looking for blood or any sign of an injury, "Talk to me, stay awake. What's hurting, can you walk?"

Canada screamed in pain the second America grabbed his knee, "Knee is broken….you are not walking on that." He turned to face him again and thought out loud for a moment on what to do next, deeply worried about the horrible wound just above his right eye, "First off we need to keep that out of the wind." America gently ripped off a chunk of his shirt sleeve and wrapped his forehead up very carefully.

"Who are you?... Oh god…." Canada muttered again and closed his eyes.

"It's alright; we just got caught in an avalanche. Just relax and I'll think of something, got it?"

Sitting back again he took a moment to think, ripping off his other shirt sleeve for a bandage for his bloody arm. Holding back screams of his own he picked a few broken bits of bark from the bloody wound before covering it up, "Okay… we're alive… now what."

Their skis were all broken off, ski poles missing, and there was no way to tell how long they were buried for. Canada remained still and opened his eyes again, "W-why are we outside?"

This didn't set right with him at all, "Huh? We're in the Alps cross country skiing… we got caught in an avalanche, remember?"

"…N-no…." He gasped closing his eyes and continued to breathe weakly.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Too afraid to move him America stayed close and looked around to survey the damage, hearing something rustle in the bushes not too far away from them.

"I… wanted to get up early this morning and have a shower…" A rush of pain flew through him like a freight train when his hand got too close to the open wound and he screamed in pain once again.

"Alright… here…" Thinking quickly he pulled Canada's hood over his head and made sure it was covering his wound from the cold wind, "Rest for a moment and try not to move so much, I'm going to take a look around and figure out where we are, got it?" America stood back up and looked around talking to himself out loud, "Alright think… what would Superman do?" Everything was so quiet and still but the evidence of the destruction was everywhere. Broken trees and branches lay all over the place, it was clear that they were incredibly lucky that the tree he clung to stayed where it was. "Superman would fly out of here and save the day…" He paused for a moment and clung to his throbbing arm, "Ugh… but what if Superman couldn't be Superman, what would Clark Kent do?..." Suddenly he got an idea and perked up, "He'd survey the situation and use his brains to get out of this. So if we came down a hill to get here, then the trail should be back up the hill right?"

That's when he noticed something that made his heart sink. Behind them was two steep inclines going in two directions, and he had no idea which one they were on, "Oh come on!"

Unseen voices began whispering from the trees around them, making noises but distant enough for them not to be understood clearly. America looked around knowing they were being watched and stepped closer to his brother, "Excuse me?" He spoke up looking around, "Is somebody there?" Still hearing the whispers he started to make out a figure behind a tree that was wearing all white, "Is that French?... Oh Jeez I only know very much French." He tried to wing it to get their attention, "Ok, uh, Vous parlez… uh…. Anglais?" There was no still no response and he began to get angry, "Bonjour?"

Canada briefly opened his eyes again hearing the sounds too, but still in a deep confusion from the head wound he started to get as angry as America did, "Make them shut up…"

"Alright that's it, we need some help here so either knock it off right now or I'll make you, don't mess with me!" He quickly turned around to see an older man in rags standing directly behind him, "Whaa!" He jumped back in terror.

With a cold gaze, the pale old man just stared at him wearing only a long white robe and had icicles hanging from his hair and a voice that was oddly familiar, "Bonsoir… I speak English. It looks like you need help."

America honestly didn't have any idea how to respond to that, "Uh… y-yeah, we got trapped in an avalanche and I need to get back to the resort immediately. Do you know what direction it's in?"

Struggling to stay conscious Canada weakly reached for America's pant leg to get his attention,

"We….we ne… we need shelter…." Several minutes later America picked him up and leaned his head against his shoulder, still covering his face from the wind, "Huh? Wha…"

"Come on, we're going to get some help… we can't wait around here." Deeply worried by how lost and confused his brother was, he knew that time was something they couldn't waste, "Just get some rest, trust me." He replied thinking out loud, "Go this way for 1 kilometer and you'll find a river… follow the river to the city. I can do that."


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19.

It grew darker and darker, making it harder to see. The dark sky was as clear as a bell dimly lighting the trail by the moonlight as France and Britain stood at the pass where the trail came back together again. All that waited for them was clear snow banks and no sign of life anywhere. Not even old ski marks in the snow under their feet. "We must have been trapped under the snow for hours, its dark already!" France called out to Britain who went up a ways ahead, "They could be trapped under the snow for all we know!"

"Don't talk like that, they're tough kids. They can make it through anything." He snapped back then returned his gaze to Dead Man's Road where they should have been waiting for them, "America! Canada!" Britain continued to call out desperate hoping they would hear him, "America!"

"Britain! Open your eyes, they're not here. They didn't go on ahead because there is no sign of them! The longer we wait here the long they will spend the night in the forest!"

"They'll be here… if we go on ahead they'll miss us and wait for us here… just give them time!" Keeping his gaze fixed on the dark unlit trail he found himself lost in a memory. He could see America and Canada as toddlers running ahead of him, just like they did when they went for a walk in the field.

"I found something cool, come see!" America cheered and ran on ahead of them but Canada quietly stopped and looked back at him unsure. A younger version of himself stood beside him and nodded, "Go on, it's alright." He snapped back at him, "No you fool, why did you let them go out on their own? Do you know anything about kids?" He screamed to his younger confused self, "What if they don't come back? What then?! Remember all the trouble you got into when Scotland wasn't around?!"

A swift slap echoed across Britain face bringing him back from the memory and looked straight at France's stern eyes, "Snap out of it."

"I refuse to lose them again. I couldn't bear to hold a gun against America… or see him leave… the things he said… and I know Canada wants to leave me too. He's been snarkier with me lately and doesn't want to fly the Union Jack anymore1. I won't let them go again…"

"Neither can I. Nothing hurts more than seeing something you love taken from you. It happened to me countless times and you were the one who took them! Seeing the tears in their eyes as they were led away from you, or seeing them happily hug you instead of me leaving me alone again. We can't change the past, but we can change the future. This is the present and we need to focus on that! What can we do? What anyone would do, return to the resort and start a search party. The longer we wait the less of a chance they have." France continued reaching his tired hand out to him, "We have been through harsher times against each other and working with each other… we can do it one more time. So help me…"

Britain took his hand and nodded, "Let's do this… through the dark with no stopping; the resort shouldn't be too far away. Hopefully someone noticed we were gone and already started."

As soon as Britain calmed down enough France slapped him one more time, "And that is for tripping me earlier."

1 Canada didn't get its own national flag until 1965, prior to that the Union Jack was flown.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20.

We shouldn't have fought. I knew it… It felt wrong from the start but I couldn't help it. We were just so angry we couldn't stop ourselves. There was this voice in my head that was telling me horrible things. Oh America I'm sorry…. Is your jaw okay?

I started to slowly wake up and as I felt our surroundings I got more and more confused. My entire body felt limp and wouldn't move, my glasses were missing, and my right eye wouldn't open all the way making it hard to see at first. I couldn't tell if I was drifting in and out of consciousness or slowly blinking but I finally sat up only to be greeted by horrible pain. My neck was stiff as wood, my knee felt crushed and the throbbing pain in my head was intolerable. I couldn't help but scream again, "Aahhh…. What happened? Where are we?" From what I could see we were in some kind of a large cave, but there was a dark blue light shining in from somewhere. Caves don't have windows but… maybe it wasn't a cave.

"Mmm…" A small voice echoed from beside him, half asleep and obviously exhausted, "I told you… there was an avalanche. Just get some rest, your very sick." He muttered before falling asleep again.

I looked closer and saw America lying beside me, all huddled up shivering from the cold, and shaking a little. He had tears in his jacket, nothing over his jeans, and I couldn't tell if he was wearing gloves or not.

"We need a fire…" My first attempt to get up was an utter failure. I underestimated just how bad my knee was hurting. After some time I managed to drag myself over to some long pieces of wood on the floor. It felt like broken pieces of a door. I found two long enough to use as a splint and tied them to either side of my leg using my long scarf. Lying against the icy wall was an unusual object that was long thin and had a piece of wood extended out through the middle of it. Whatever it was it perfect size to be a crutch. There I was finally standing upright and hobbled over to the wide open entrance where the moon dimly lit up the winter scene before me. Total silence, no sign of human life, and chunks of snow fell gently from the sky. I could barely make out a set of footprints that reached out as far as I could see. "America needs a fire or he'll freeze to death… "I gasped and very slowly hobbled into the wilderness to find firewood. Without any honest idea how long it took me, at some point I had to call it quits.

I became increasingly dizzy and nauseous. With an armful of twigs and sticks I fell in the snow outside the entrance of the cave and weakly dragged myself over to America who was still sleep just on the inside of it.

He was curled up on his side and facing me, shivering still and looked pale from what I could tell. As he slowly opened his eyes he saw me crawling back into the cave and jolted up almost immediately, "Huh? What? What are you doing?!"

"We needed a fire…" I gasped and collapsed on the floor the moment I made it into the cave.

"If you wanted a fire why didn't you just wake me up?" He replied disappointed in me and took the bundle of firewood from under my arm.

"But it wasn't for me… you're going to freeze out here. We needed a fire."Closing my eyes for a moment I just wanted the nausea to pass before anything. When I opened my eyes again he had already built the firewood into a stack and was looking around for his lighter, "…You went to all that trouble for me?"

"I don't want you to freeze." I sat back up again and shook my head, "Netherlands lighter… is in my right pocket of my coat."

He leaned in forwards but paused for a moment unsure, "Are you sure it's ok?"

"Just grab it…"

I closed my eyes for a moment but when I opened them he had apparently been trying to get a spark for some time now, "Man this thing is almost out of lighter fluid."

"Try rubbing two sticks together… to help get a spark." I slowly sat up again and grabbed two sticks to help out. He watched me try for a spark just as he tried a few more times to light it as well. In the distance the sky slowly grew lighter bringing the dawn allowing us to see a bit better. His lips were a pale and there was frozen chunks of snow in his hair. I could barely see dried blood frozen onto the quick bandage he used to cover his wounded arm. I knew he was too proud to ask for help so I decided to help anyways. Just as there was a spark and the wood started to catch fire I looked to him curious while undoing the bandage, "Can I borrow your glasses?"

"…Alright, but only for a second."

I gently put them on but not all the way and took a closer look. The wound was quite deep and very sore, redness was surrounding it as well as some bruising, "Oh wow…. That's infected."

He took his glasses back and sighed, "Don't tell me that…"

"Do you still have Britain's flask?"

The fire started to roar and warm us up a little. "Yeah why?" He looked at me like I was crazy as he inched closer to the flame.

"I can clean it. We don't have the hydrogen peroxide but liquor works when you have nothing else."He dug into his pocked at handed it to me. It was North Ireland's old steel flask that had a faded clover on the front. The second I smelled it I immediately knew what it was, "Whew! Whisky, 80+ proof. Perfect."

I looked at him before I started, "This is really going to hurt, you know that right?"

Taking a deep breath he looked away and focused on something else, "I don't care just go…."

I quickly poured some of the liquor over the wound then immediately covered again with the cloth. America screamed so loud I swear he woke up half the forest. That isn't easy to go through, it's extremely painful. After a few minutes he was able to speak again, "Oh my god that smart…."

"Sorry I had to do that." The wound was dressed up again and I leaned back for a moment in silence.

"You know what; I don't want you over doing it. Something bad will happen if you will, rest for now."

"…I'm fine."

"I wasn't asking you I was telling you…."

I was in no position to argue with him so I looked outside for a moment. It was a bit brighter now but the winds picked up bringing the wind chill to a skin freezing temperature. We were stronger than average but nobody can put up with this weather for too long. I had hard time thinking and could only hope that someone out there knew we were gone. "What are we doing here…. Where are we anyways?"

With a heavy sigh he pocked the flask then held his shiny red hands closer to the fire, "For the millionth time, there was an avalanche."

"I mean how did we get here, why don't I remember anything?"

I could tell he didn't want to tell me the whole story, "I needed to get some help real quick, and

I couldn't find our way back to the trail. There was an old man who offered to help and said there was a city nearby that had a doctor. So I followed the river just like he said…. but I never found the city. It was getting too dark to continue on so I found shelter for the night. We should be close…" He didn't like the look I gave back at him. It was a wide eyed look like I had just seen hell itself, "…What?"

"America, there isn't a city around this resort for miles. It's a 5 hour drive to any kind of civilization."

"…But the old man said there was… he even showed me a light in the distance to follow." He looked into my wounded eyes and saw I was looking past his shoulder and at something behind him. The second he turned around he seen it too. The dawn shone through a window above us lightly revealing an old, frozen, and beaten down house. We were about 7 feet away from the entrance, left wide open by broken down doors. The main foyer that had stairs that were falling apart and signs of animal activity were everywhere. Hanging at the back of the main foyer was a giant tapestry, frozen solid as it hung loosely on the wall that read 'Ville Morte'. I whispered as I read it, "….Dead City…."

America started to shiver but this time in fear. Slowly getting up he looked around the floor and saw a mass of frozen mummies, all wearing white robes. He screamed at the top of his lungs in terror just as

I clung on to my crutch and screamed with him. Within a second he grabbed me and bolted out of the house, still screaming and ran as far away from it as he could before collapsing in the snow again to catch his breath, "It was the ghosts…. They were trying to kill us! Everything Britain said is true! We're being haunted! Now we're lost in the mountains and I had no idea how to get back! They're trying to kill us out here, man!"

I held my hand to my forehead and was silent for a moment, trying hard to hide the pain for his sake, "We're not going to die. We can do this… We just need to find north and get as far away from this place as possible." I looked down to the crutch I was using and found a tall, handmade tombstone made of two pieces of wood. It was a makeshift cross with some ones name freshly painted on it but it was too blurry for me to read it. I screamed again and threw it away never wanting to look back again, knowing the house was still in our sights.

He tried to collect himself but he was too terrified, "We need to get out of here. France and Britain could be trapped under the snow for all we know… You're smart, which way is north?"

I didn't reply. I couldn't see, think or move. It felt like my head was about to explode from the pressure. He looked at me and didn't like what he saw, "…What's wrong? Are you okay?"  
Suddenly light headed my eyes rolled into the back of my head and I fell backwards into the snow limp.

"No wait! You can't leave me here alone, not here, not with the ghosts. You have to find north! Canada!"


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21.

Still in the middle of the night Britain and France slowly made it to the parking lot of the resort and barely made it through the front doors before falling to their knees exhausted. "We have to keep going… We're so close…" Britain gasped but fell to the carpet. France followed him and they lay there for a moment before a bright spotlight shone right on them from outside. Through the darkness all they could see was the light.

"Britain…. Do you see a light too?" France said weakly just wanting to cry from exhaustion.

"Don't go into the light." Once the light started to move, still focused on them, and ended up in the middle of the parking lot he realized what was going on, "Wait… yes! That's a spotlight of a chopper. It's a search party!"

They weakly got back up as Germany emerged from beside the light, followed closely by Japan and Italy, "Britain, France! We've been looking everywhere for you! Where are the others?" He asked opening the doors and approaching them.

"They're not with you?" Japan looked livid.

"No, we got separated. What do you mean, are they not with you either? …they're still out there?"

"No, America never showed up for his party and nobody has seen him since he left with you. That means he's still out there."Germany replied speaking over the noise of the spinning blades, "We went for a run already to find all of you but it was too dark to see, once we refuel we're going back out at dawn."

"Canada is with him, and I'm going to look with you, we're going now…" France called back not wanting to give up yet.

"I'm going too! There's no time to lose."

"The avalanche was massive! We could see it from the ballroom!" Italy spoke up brushing the snow off of his jacket, "It knocked out half of the mountain!"

"I'm sorry but we can't restart the search party until daylight. It's too dark to see anything, we already tried. Look we already called ahead for a doctor to meet us here; he should be here any minute now. Come inside and rest."

As Japan and Germany helped them up and took them to the lobby everything suddenly became more real than before, "They didn't make it…." France muttered, "They're spending Christmas stranded in the mountains."


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22.

"I hate the snow… I hate the snow…. I hate the snow…"

I slowly gained consciousness again, this time feeling much weaker than before. I could barely lift my head up. As I slowly opened my eyes I found America weakly carrying me across the snow, looking more pale than before. I felt better after awhile but suddenly began to crash again feeling worse than ever. "Am…" I gasped trying to finish a sentence, "Where are we now?"

"I don't know… I just kept following the river. There was a river near the resort…." He replied staring off into the snow in a daze, "I hate the snow… I've been following this stupid river all afternoon."

"North…" I closed my eyes again trying to remember what the map said, "A small lake sat at the resort and lead to a river that ran north by north east down the mountain… So if the water is flowing with us… we should be going the other way. We need to go against the flow."

He stopped walking and looked at me, "What are you talking about?"

"Put me down for a moment…"

Doing what I said he sat me down in the snow and sat beside me to take a quick break, "You know where north is?"

Looking to the river I saw the water under the ice rush past us and headed into the distance, "The river flows north by north east…. but does it?" I said to myself and grabbed a stick that was lying nearby. He watched me curiously as I shoved it into the ground, "Give me about 15 minutes…"

We remained there quiet for a moment as I studied the shadow of the stick watching it as the sun moved across the sky, "Where did you learn this stuff?"

I didn't reply for a moment until I saw what I needed, "I spent a lot of time outdoors." Drawing into the snow with my fingers I continued, "The sun sets in the west… so this is west… this is east… and the river does flow straight north by north east…. that means we need to go south by south west…." I drew in arrow into the snow, "We need to go this way."

"Perfect, let's go…" When he got back up I protested. He was pale, clearly sick, and could barely stand up straight. Worst of all his lips were a faint blue and his hands were all red and very sore looking.  
"No… you have to stop."

He chuckled a little and denied it, "No, we're going to keep going!"

"You're turning into a popsicle, we can't. Here, take my gloves." I ripped my gloves off and handed them to him, making sure he put them on and didn't refuse.

Getting fed up he no longer hid it, "You'll die if we don't!"A heavy sigh escaped his lips and he revealed the truth after trying his best to make to keep his composure, "Do you have any idea what happened? You slammed into a tree skiing at full speed. The wound on your forehead is so bad I can see the bone… You didn't have a pulse when I pulled you out of the snow!" I could say nothing back, my memory was so foggy I didn't know what had truly happened, "… and you're getting worse. You had a seizure… you have never had those before and you can't stay conscious if I paid you a million dollars. If we stop you'll die…"

"You'll die if we keep going!" I yelled back truly worried about him as well, "Look at you, no gloves, a torn jacket, no sleeves… You're hypothermic! We have to stop, find shelter, and stay warm until a search party finds us."

"No. There is no way we're stopping, a hero wouldn't give up and neither will I."

There was no arguing with him, and honestly I wasn't going to fight like that again. Instead I tried to get up but failed miserably. I collapsed back into the snow moaning quietly. I was too weak to even stand up. Feeling utterly hopeless I tried not to cry, "Please… listen to me, you're going to kill yourself." Without even thinking about it he picked me up again and started walking,

"We're going this way; in the direction the arrow is pointed. Don't worry about it… I can handle anything."

He was stronger than me, but everyone has a breaking point. His arm was killing him; the wound on it looked terrible. Not only that he couldn't stop shivering, "….I'm sorry we fought… it's all my fault."

"What? You call that fighting? We've had worse…. much worse."

"….Britain… France… Where are you?" I sighed and after a few minutes I felt too weak to stay awake again. Half awake and half asleep I ended up muttering to myself out loud, "Netherlands…."

"I keep telling you I'm not Netherlands, that's starting to get annoying."

"You were right….." I continued closing my eyes again.

America kept slowly trudging through the snow but became interested in what I was saying, "Huh? What are you talking about? Are you even awake?"

"I am afraid…"

"….Afraid of what?"

I didn't reply at first, I couldn't entirely control what I was saying but was speaking the truth and the shame of it hurt me to admit, "How can I be afraid of my own brother?"

"What?!" He snapped and stopped in his tracks, "That's a terrible thing to say!"

"I'm horrible….."

A powerful breeze rushed through us, nearly knocking America over and sent a chill up his spine, "God its cold… I can't feel my fingers…. or my toes… I can barely move… I swear there is frost in my

lungs…" He blurted in frustration, "I could easily leave you here, but I'm not going to. You're my only friend." Stubbornly carrying on he held me closer to share warmth, "Did I ever tell you about the story of the husky that never learned to bark?" He continued not expecting an answer, "Once upon a time there was this blue eyed husky who never learned to bark. He was always quiet, and polite, and tended to let himself get pushed around by some of the other dogs in the neighborhood. One day the husky's brother, the wolf, hurt him when he played too rough. The husky never learned to bark so he didn't say anything about it. Instead he sat in the corner and quietly waiting for someone to help him. Because of the husky's silence no one ever did. Instead his brother, the wolf, went to the park with the English Terrier and the Shitzu to play. Months went by and the husky's wound got worse and eventually got infected. After awhile he couldn't take the pain anymore. When the other dogs noticed someone had been missing lately they went to find him. He was found still sitting in the corner of the room quietly waiting, but when they went to help him he went wild and attacked them brutally. The husky was sent to the pound for the attack where he remained alone for the rest of his life, leaving everyone confused about what had gone wrong. All of those months he spent in pain, alone, waiting for someone had changed him. He thought that no one ever cared and no one wanted to help. The husky thought he was abandoned and had simply snapped. The other dogs in the neighborhood would have let him come to the park if the husky said he wanted to go. His brother, the wolf, didn't know how much he actually hurt him and would have licked his wounds better if he said he was hurting. The husky's pain would never have been so bad if he simply learned to bark."

"…..He had to think like a dragon…." I whispered in response,

"Yeah, he had to think like a dragon. I like that. Those who are quiet aren't heard." After a moment he spoke up again, "You can keep a secret right?" He asked still not expecting an answer, "I'm afraid too.

I didn't want you to be my brother; I wanted you to be my friend because I never had one. Sometimes

I only see things they way I want to see them… because the truth scares me. The unknown… not being in control of the situation, you know? I didn't want to listen and chose to hear what I wanted, what didn't scare me. I didn't know I made you so mad. I got the wrong idea but by then it was too late. I never ever wanted to see you that angry or hurt again so I started to look out for you to make sure nothing else would. There's no reason to be afraid of me… you're my pal."


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23.

Germany, Italy, and Japan got ready right at day break to restart the search party attempting to leave France and Britain to rest in the lobby with the doctor. However not have gotten a wink of sleep between them they both made sure they were there during takeoff. A doctor was staying at the resort the same time as them, Dr. Val Bordeaux, France's personal physician, who volunteered to cut his trip short once he heard about the accident. He was the one to recommend the resort in the first place and worried about the health of the party he joined in the search.

They searched all morning and afternoon hovering over the trail itself and all over the avalanche site in an attempt to find them. There was no sign of them anywhere and hopes were running out.

With the sun high in the sky, the winds grew heavier and the clouds became thicker as a snow storm began to brew. The helicopter landed on a large chunk of snow, right where the avalanche had gone through. The group split up for a moment or two to find any sign of America and Canada knowing this was the spot they were hit. Japan and Britain searched through a part of the woods but came up empty handed, "I'm not seeing anything… We should go back into the helicopter. We have a better chance seeing them from above." Britain didn't reply and seemed side tracked by something nearby. Japan looked over to him confused why he was kneeling in the snow or what he was looking at, "Britain?"

"We're not alone…"

Footsteps crunched into the snow behind them, slowly and heavily. It was France with a long face. He didn't say a word, just lifted up his finger where a pair of frozen glasses hung smashed and bloody. Japan heavily sighed with grief as he approached Britain and showed him, "I found them hanging on a tree. We're running out of time."

"Oh god, it just keeps getting worse and worse." He looked into the distance for a moment, "They both wear the same pair. How are we to tell?" Returning his gaze to the space before him he spoke up again, "But… I have a lead."

"I don't see a lead, Britain… I keep telling you, we're alone out here."

"Japan go to Germany and tell him I'll be right there. I promise I know what I'm doing."

He nodded and ran off as Britain looked at France over his shoulder, "There's a little dead girl in front of me who is willing to talk but doesn't speak English. I need you to translate."

"What? Are you serious or just delusional?!"

"Just do this for me, damn it!"

With a huff he agreed, not letting go of the glasses, "Fine. Considering the other things we witnessed so far what do I have to lose?"

"Ask her if she seen them."

"…Avez-vous vu deux garçons 18 an, plus grands que moi, avec les cheveux blonds et les verres ?" ("Did you see two 18 year old boys, taller than me, with blonde hair and glasses?") He asked looking towards the space before Britain. If this could get information he was willing to try anything.

"She says… Oui j'ai."

"You're French is terrible…."

"Oh shut it and translate. Ask her which one is injured."

France raised an eyebrow finding this mysterious enough to believe, "She has seen them. Avez-vous vu lesquels a été blessé?" ("Did you see which one was wounded?")

"She says non, ils se sont ressemblés trop."

"That means no, they looked too much alike."

"Bullocks, that's them alright…. Where did they go?" He replied keeping his gaze fixed on her.

"Avez-vous vu où ils ont disparu?" ("Did you see which way they went?")

Britain paused having some trouble following the next sentence, "She says…. Ils sont allés de cette façon, marchant le long de la rivière et dirigée vers la ville?"

"That doesn't make any sense. That means they walked along the river towards the city… but there is no city around here." France shook his head confused, "Are you sure you heard her right?"

"Oh... now there's more. Slow down, little one…" He paused again and repeated the rest of her sentence, "Le chef les a envoyés à la ville morte. Il veut qu'ils meurent là comme nous… vous devriez aller mourez là aussi."

France didn't like the sound of that at all and grabbed Britain's arm, yanking him to his feet, "Get away from her! Back to the helicopter now!"

"Are you daft? What did she say?"

"She said the leader sent them to Dead city. He wants them to die there like they did…. and we should go die with them." They ran back to the helicopter where the others were waiting for them, "Follow the river! Follow the river to an old house!"

"What? How did you find out that?" Germany asked deeply confused but jumped back into the inside.

"That doesn't matter, just go. They're wounded!" Britain called jumping in with the others, "…Dead City…"


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24.

I woke up lying comfortably in a warm bed and heard a fire roaring behind me. Wrapped in warm blankets, I was resting in my room back at the resort. I slowly opened my eyes to find Netherlands standing there, calmly greeting me and was back just in time for the Christmas Party. "I'm sorry I had to go, but everything is alright now."

I reached up and hugged him tightly, "I'm so happy you made it. I didn't want to go alone."

Netherlands looked at me as a snowflake brushed past his face, "You need to listen to me now. You have to get up. I know it hurts but you have to. They're coming for both of you, but you have to get up."

"I don't understand."

"Wake up, you're both dying… your brother needs you! Wake up!"

I jolted awake and found a light layer of snow was resting over me. America was lying next to me, face down in the snow, and looked like he hadn't moved in awhile. His coat was missing and he was laying there in nothing but jeans and his torn dress shirt but kept my gloves on. Something was deeply wrong.

"America…." I gasped and pulled myself up regardless of how much it hurt, "America wake up…" I tried shaking him but he barely moved. "Oh no…." I suddenly remembered what he told me. "Never learned to bark… I'm such a fool… you were never trying to take over and control me, you were just being over protective!"I rolled him over and saw him slowly breathing and winced his eyes. "Wake up, please."

After a moment or two he finally moved, "N-n-no…. I c-can't do it." He barely whispered. His face was white, lips were blue, and had frost in his hair. He was freezing to death. It started to snow heavier and the winds got stronger, any time now a snow storm was brewing.

"Can't do what?"

"I c-can't save us…. I'm n-no hero…" He kept his eyes closed and couldn't stop his teeth from chattering.

"Alfred Fitzgerald1 Jones!" I yelled grabbing his coat collar, "Don't you dare start to talk like that."

"…. Matthew Alexander2 Williams…. I'm so sorry."

"You not only survived an avalanche, you dug us out of the hole, and nearly killed yourself to try to get us back. You walked farther by yourself with me and a wounded arm than any average person could have if they were completely healthy. You brought us farther than anyone possibly could, and that makes you a hero!" I yelled to him with a tear in my eye, "But you can't do this alone, nobody could. Not even Superman could handle everything alone, he had to turn to the Justice League when things got too out of hand. He had help from his friends. If he could turn back time to save Lois then you can do this."

I took a quick breath and saw a bunch of trees in the far distance that would work to shelter us from the wind. I tried to sit him up but I was in too much pain to carry him, "Do you see those trees?" I asked pointing to them, "That is your fortress of solitude. We're not going to make it back to the resort alone, that ship has sailed. What we need to do is get to the fortress of solitude and wait for back up, but you can't do it alone. We have to do it together. Can you do it, Superman?"

He looked at the sky for a moment then at me still heavily shivering, "The fortress…."

"Yes, just get to the fortress. We can't stay here or the winds will kill us both, please."

"The fortress… for Lois…." He gasped but fell silent again.

"…..America?" He didn't move and had blacked out again. He was breathing but very slowly,

"No… please…" I shook him as hard as I could but it didn't work. I tried getting up but I couldn't. I felt so useless, "America, please, you're the strong one…" I sat up and tried to think quickly on what to do.

I took my coat off and put it on him myself. We had to get out of the wind because it was getting worse as time went by. That's when I cracked an idea. I looked down at my leg and found the two pieces of wood I used as a splint. "Hang on, brother, I can do this." I yanked the scarf off and threw it away. It was too cold to be of any use now. "Alright here's what we're going to do…." I spoke out loud not expecting an answer as I shoved the wooden boards in front of me, "I do fifty pushups every morning, I can drag you. All you have to do is get on my back and hang on." Laying down flatter I grabbed his limp arm and after some time of wrestling I did it. Laying blacked out on my back I pushed myself up with my elbows and my left knee, struggling a little bit and focused on the trees in the distance. At this point I didn't care if I made it or not, I wasn't going to lie down and let my brother freeze to death in the alps.

I grabbed a stake of wood in either hand and used them to dig into the snow to help drag me forward. There was still a little bit of hope left in me that let me keep going. It took me a long time to make the distance that I did. The trees were getting closer and closer and as long as I felt his chest continue to rise and collapse against my back I dragged myself another inch. Even though I had to stop the odd time to stop him from rolling off of my back or because my head started to ache again I made it more than half way.

Sometime later I raised one of the wooden stakes into the air and dug it into the snow once more only to strike something strange. It wasn't a rock or a branch. Confused I dusted off whatever was in my way and made a horrible discovery. Sticking out of the snow was a homemade tombstone, a wooden cross, the same one I used as a crutch. "No…. No way…." I gasped with a quivering voice and looked to my left to see the nightmare. There was Dead City, the old empty house sitting there staring at us like a curse. "No!" I screamed and burst into tears, "We walked in a circle… Oh god!" Sobbing away what little hope I had left. America rolled off of my back and landed in the snow next to me, facing me with his ghost white face. I couldn't believe it, all that hard work for nothing. As I lay there trying to stop crying I felt a weak and shaky hand press against my back like I was being hugged by a corpse, "Oh god …We've been out here for two days and we've walked in a circle… what do I do now?" I just lay there trying not to lose it. Instead of fighting we both lay there underneath the wooden cross that still stood up in the snow and loomed over us. Taking a deep breath I pulled the hood over America's head as he weakly opened his eyes, "….Why… why am I wearing your coat? Take it off…"

Somehow we both knew that was it. This was where we were going to die, huddled for warmth together in the frozen mountains. He nearly killed himself trying to do the right thing. He didn't always make the wisest choices but his heart was in the right place. He was always just trying to help. "Come on, it's no different than when we were little and used to change places to confuse Britain… remember that?"

I replied with a tear in my eye.

He smiled a little at that and tried to lightly chuckle, "And I colored over… h-his face dressed as you and

h-h-he thought you did it… a-a-and you got the strap for it…"

"Yeah… just like that. We're just switching places again, this time you get to wear the drab coat. It's warmer."

I inched closer to him and huddled up tighter. In the back of my head I started saying my goodbyes to everyone. We had no food, and America was far too cold and sick for an extra coat to help him. We were out there for what felt like hours and he just sat there shivering in silence, a long silence that bothered me. He was never quiet. Instead I held myself against him in a sad attempt to share body heat. I was starting to feel worse and worse but I couldn't allow it. I needed to be there for him. I had less energy and could barely move. "I'm sorry Britain. Thank you for taking me in like one of your own. You're a wonderful father figure and I wish you truly knew that." I whispered out loud, "I'm sorry France, you were one of the best big brother's around. I always felt loved with you around… you made the world beautiful. I'm sorry Ukraine, I know I said I'd be there for you whenever you needed me but… I can't keep that promise. Your brother Russia will keep you safe. I love you." I sniffed and continued closing my eyes, "I'm sorry, Cuba. You're a wonderful person and someday more people will see that. You were a fantastic friend." Pausing for a moment I opened my eyes again and brushed America's hair out of his face, "I'm sorry Kumagino… we've been together since before I can remember. You're my buddy but… I'm not coming home. Germany always liked you… maybe he'll let you frolic around his house." A small tear escaped his eye without him moving, "Merry Christmas America… I'm sure the party would have been wonderful. I shouldn't have invited you… you would be there having the time of your life, surrounded by friends and celebrating. All of this is my fault..." I hugged him a bit tighter, "You never gave up before… you were always the strong one with confidence and pride in your eyes. I don't remember seeing you frown very often. Together forever, remember?"

A moment later he barely whispered without opening his eyes, "Keep your wound… out of the wind…." He took a silent breath and muttered something else, "I'm sorry…. we bickered. I'm sorry…. we didn't make it home like I said…."

"….It doesn't matter now. This isn't your fault, it never was. I'm not afraid anymore, you hear me…."

I felt something that got my attention as I hugged him. Inside his pocket was Britain's flask of whisky and inside my coat pocket was the tiny silver box Netherlands gave me and what was left of his orange cigarette lighter. I sat up and placed them on my lap read the tag smiling sadly, "To Canada, my unexpected hero." I started to cry again at the sight of it, "I'm sorry Netherlands. I'm sorry you won't come home to anything… that you tried to teach me and I didn't get it. I felt so warm when you hugged me. You still send me flowers every year and I can't believe you never forget. I love you more than you know….."

When I opened the box I found a necklace of a Japanese dragon made of wood and painted red, my favorite color. It looked old and handmade like it was older than I was. After a sudden bout of nausea

I put the necklace on and immediately felt like he was there with me, holding me tight like everything was going to be alright and his heart beating fast like the blades of a helicopter. Helicopter…?

I looked up into the sky I fell silent trying to listen. I couldn't see anything beyond the heavy snowflakes.

Thinking it was just me I almost looked away again until I saw a helicopter in the distance flying towards us. "America! Someone's coming! We're saved!" I cried and yelled and waved at them to get their attention, "Hey! Down here, please!" It continued to roar overhead louder and louder as it approached us but didn't seem to see me, "Hey! We're down here! Please!" but it continued as if I was invisible.

"No… don't go….wait!" I turned to America and shook him, "Say something, wave your arms, they can see _you_…" But it was too late; the helicopter flew over head and didn't see me. "God no… please…"

I looked down in defeat but thought of something when I laid eyes on Britain's flask of whiskey,

"Dragon… think like a dragon…." Still feeling incredibly nauseous and another rush of pain pressing against my forehead I knew that I had one chance but I didn't care. I refused to let my brother freeze to death after trying so hard to save us. I was a goner but he wasn't. I stood up on my broken leg, desperate, and with everything that I had left I screamed at the top of my lungs, "OVER HERE!" Then gulped the remains of the alcohol, held the cigarette lighter to my lips and spit it back out. Through the cold winds I lit up the sky with bright fire before falling to the snow like a ton of bricks. My muscles tensed up and I couldn't move anymore. Through the corner of my eye I saw America reach his arm around me with a stiff weak grip and hands that couldn't stop shaking. My eyes started to roll back and we both blacked out at the same time, unsure if we were spotted and left huddled together under the wooden tombstone.

1 Fitzgerald references John Fitzgerald Kennedy who was elected President of the United States of America on January 20th 1961, and assassinated on November 22nd 1963 in Dallas, Texas.

2 Alexander references Sir John Alexander MacDonald, the first Prime Minister of Canada.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25.

The helicopter landed out front of the old massive house, frozen in time, and heavily damaged. Its roof was specially designed not to be seen from above. Several men got out and ran over to a lump in the snow. It was France, Japan, and Britain, and lying before them was two frozen bodies underneath a handmade tombstone. In the distance Italy and Germany brought over two stretchers they had prepared just in case and the doctor ran through the snow to catch up with them.

"Oh my god…." Britain gasped and shook one of them, "Boys... wake up… we're here for you."

There was no response from either of them, "….Which one is which?" He asked leaning over and inspecting them closer.

"I….am unsure myself." Japan spoke up quietly, "We should just get them on board and away from here."

Just as Britain was, France was barely able to stand anymore due to exhaustion. With a weak frown he ran his fingers through their hair, "Canada is on the right, America is on the left."

"That can't be, why would America be wearing Canada's coat?"

The doctor arrived with Germany and Italy and kneeled next to them to made a quick assessment, "This one has severe hypothermia. We need to get him to emergency immediately for active internal rewarming."

"Hypothermia?" Britain snapped in shock.

"He's freezing to death. If we wait too long his organs will start to shut down. He could die any minute; you and you get him on a stretcher like I showed you and into the helicopter now! Don't bother with blankets he's too frozen for that to do any good." continued and studied the other one quickly. Still stiff and slightly twitching he held his wrists down until he finally went limp, "This one just had a seizure… skull fracture, indent possibly closed and most likely swelling of the brain… bruising on the neck and shoulder, possible broken bones. He's gone through heavy physical trauma. Take care in moving him, I'll keep the neck straight and you two move him on the stretcher like I showed you earlier." The doctor continued wishing he had back up or medical supplies. When France didn't move Japan helped Britain as they were told not having enough time to really take it all in.

"We are incredibly lucky to have found you, doctor." Japan spoke up grateful, "I am so sorry your vacation was cut short like this."

"A doctor is always on duty." He replied lifting the boy up with Britain, "Germany! Did you call ahead for the transfer to meet us as the resort?"

"I already called ahead. They'll be there as soon as they can."

"Hopefully it's immediate. We can't warm the one up while we're moving him; we need to get them to Paris now!" They stopped for a moment curious about why France wasn't following them.

Still sitting in the snow where he was France gazed at the handmade tombstone, the wooden cross, in complete shock. Written in fresh paint on the front of it was the name "Francis Bonnefoy" his own name. The spirits of Dead City were after him the whole time.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26.

For awhile there I actually thought I was dead and in hell. I couldn't move, I could barely talk and when

I did talk I didn't always say what I wanted to and nobody ever seemed to answer my questions.

It seemed that every 20 minutes someone was waking me up to ask me the same questions over and over again or poke and prod at my knee. That or they didn't know I was awake and would talk over me like I was dead.

"….Mr. Williams?" A cold hand gently grabbed my shoulder and shook me a little waking me up again.

Exhausted and in a terrible mood I just wanted to scream in frustration but instead I groaned and looked away from him.

"Mr. Williams, wake up."

"….Go away….." I managed to spit out before I opened my eyes to see that nameless face with the light French accent that never seemed to leave me alone.

"I have a few questions for you. Do you know what day it is?"

I didn't reply for a moment because it was too hard to think, "It's the same thing you asked me ten minutes ago… it's Thursday."

"That was two hours ago and yes it's Thursday. Do you remember your name?"

"…Cana…"

"No no, your other name, please."

"…Matthew Williams…"

"Perfect, do you remember where you are?"

It was sad but I honestly couldn't tell anymore, "…I'm in hell…."

"You're in Paris, Mr. Williams…. I have some new ones for you. Do you remember who your boss is?"

"Diefenbaker1."

"That checks out…. Who was your first boss?"

"…..First boss…. Um….." I couldn't answer him. I weakly covered my eyes with my hand in frustration and weakly responded with a low moan.

"You don't know?"

"No I don't…"

"Hmm…. How about your brother's boss, do you remember who that is?"

"Eisenhower2" I replied without thinking twice. Who gets woken up for a pop quiz? I wanted to just open my eyes and yell at him but I didn't.

"How about his first boss?"

"John Hanson.3"

"I thought it was Washington."

"…..You didn't say first President, you said first boss…"

"Oh… I'll have to look that one up. What day was it again, ?"

"….For the last time it's Friday."

There was a long pause he spoke again, "Its Thursday. The medication still has a hold of you, but you're still quite confused. I'm going to give you a higher dose so you'll feel a prick sensation in just a moment."

Following that I felt a sharp stabbing in my arm that jolted me, not a prick sensation at all. He started to ignore me and was talking to someone else about removing fragments of bone in French, which didn't make things any better. I finally gathered the courage to yell at him, I'd had quite enough of this, "Stop poking me!"

"But I haven't touched you…."

I immediately opened my eyes when I heard another person's voice, someone I haven't seen in awhile.

I was lying in a small room in a hospital, dimly lit due to closed curtains, and there was a bed near mine. It was hooked up to some strange machines and covered with blankets. I couldn't tell if that was America or not, I could barely see anything there. What happened? Was I asleep again? How did I get here? When I slowly looked to my right I saw a vase of irises on the table and saw someone who was leaning in the doorway with a cigarette between his fingers. The doctor was in the hallway talking to Britain but I could only hear parts of his sentence, "He's got quite a short temper with me, but has been doing a bit better since he came in. The medication he's on is keeping the swelling down."

The man wandered into the room and smirked at me a little, "It's just Uncle Scotland."

"I'm not dead… I'm not in hell?" I could barely remember anything solid, only tiny blips of information or people talking to me without faces. I remembered being jolted around a lot but I couldn't remember anything other than that. The last clear memory I had was waking up in the morning early so I could have a shower before meeting France. America told me what happened but I only know what he told me. Most of it was a complete blank, I wish I knew more. I just wanted to cry happy that I wasn't dead and furious that they wouldn't tell me anything about anyone else.

He laughed at that and put the cigarette out on the floor before shoving the butt in his pocket. "We both know that hell isn't in Paris. If anything it's probably in London somewhere. I thought you didn't believe in hell." He continued sitting in the chair next to my bed.

"If there is a hell this is what it would feel like." I sighed and relaxed little, "What are you doing here?"

"….and we've all agreed to keep this quiet. There's no need to stir any panic over it. That's why we're using human names only. That is of course you still agree to anonymity." I heard Britain say in the distance.

"I heard about the accident and came check on you, France, and America. While I was here I figured I'd bring Britain some stuff anyways. What are you doing awake, lad?"

"I can't sleep, they won't let me…" Scotland hid his feelings about as much as Britain did, but I could tell he was soft on my brother and I. Besides, when we were little he was good to hide behind when Britain got angry and usually had candies in his pockets. "Talk to me, nobody else will."

"You're going to have to speak up, I can barely hear you." He leaned forward in the chair and kept his eyes focused on mine. His accent was sometimes hard for me to understand but I never brought it up really, I could understand most of it so there was really no problem.

"….What's going on? Nobody has told me anything."

Scotland looked over his shoulder at the doctor still talking to Britain and thought for a moment, "You've only been here for about 8 hours. I can tell you one thing; Britain and France weren't in good shape either. France is in shock and Britain refuses to sleep. The four of you gave everybody quite the scare."

So England and France were alright. I didn't know if they were found, still trapped, or even alright or not. America was so worried about them, and from what I heard about the accident I was too. "America… how is he?"

"I don't know. They haven't told us anything yet… just that you two shouldn't have visitors."

That wasn't what I wanted to hear. I was exhausted, frustrated, and growing more and more impatient at the lack of communication, "Damn it…."

I could tell by his heavy sigh that he was sympathetic, "They won't talk to me because I wasn't there and I'm not a direct relative. So far they only talk to Britain and France only. But I can tell you one thing…" He leaned in a little closer and smiled at me trying to cheer me up a little, "Don't tell Britain I said this but I'm pretty sure America took after me."

That statement confused me a little, "But… you two act nothing alike…. And don't even look alike either."

"I'm as strong as a black bear, as tough as an ox, and as brave as a wolf. There would have to be a pretty mighty beast in my woods that could take the lights of me down. I had to defend myself nearly my whole life and I had wee ones to take care of. I've been through tight spots myself but I always pulled through and wore the scar like a badge of honor. You're brother is the same way. He's as stubborn as an ox and will be his usual self in no time. Take my word for it."

"Look, not much can be done right now…." The doctor echoed in the distance, "Why don't you go home and relax. If you like I can call you when the surgery is over and if Mr. Jones shows any improvement."

He got back up and watched my eyes start to close again, "Look, you've got a busy afternoon booked. Try to get some sleep and that bump on your noggin will start to heal up in no time."

"I don't want to be here anymore…" I sighed and felt heavy all the sudden, "Everyone pretends like I'm invisible and won't tell me anything… America is so weak I can barely sense him." Once again I felt incredibly sleepy except this time the medication was doing it. "Scotland…. are you sure I'm not in hell?"

"… Believe me I want to return home but this time I'm staying here." Britain sighed as Scotland slowly returned to the hallway, "Probably another two days just to be sure. Nobody knows that we're here except for you, Doctor… I would appreciate it if it would stay that way."

"It's nobody else's business but my own and as far as everyone else is considered its business as usual. You do yourself a favor and try to relax for a few days." The Doctor replied eyeing them both, "And when Mr. Bonnefoy wakes up tell him to come see me."

1 John Diefenbaker, Prime Minister of Canada from June 21st 1957 to April 22 1963.

2 Dwight D. Eisenhower, President of the United States of America from January 20 1953 – January 20 1961.

3 John Hanson, President of the Continental Congress from November 5th, 1781 to November 3rd 1782.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27.

I wasn't awake but I wasn't asleep either. All I know is I couldn't move or open my eyes. I felt like I was dreaming and saw several quick flashes of visions across my eyes but I heard people talking nearby that was very vivid. South Vietnam was sitting next to America's bed, her hair was tied in a braid and she was a bit bigger than the last time I saw her. I only saw her back before I closed my eyes again.

"Good morning, its 2am… you should sleep." She spoke softly but probably didn't expect him to agree.

"How is everything holding up?" America's voice sounded so tired, quiet and weak as if he wasn't entirely awake himself.

"I'd rather not talk about it." She had a calm and collected voice but if you knew her well enough you could tell she was still very worried and upset, "How are you holding up?"

"I'd rather not talk about it….I don't even know where I am. I was just told a second ago I wasn't home… if that's true then I'm in hell but you're here so that's not true yet either. " He replied right back being his usual stubborn yet prideful self.

"You look terrible."

"Thanks… I can't move."

"How does it feel?"

"…Kind of like that feeling you get when you've been running around in a snow bank in your swim shorts before diving into a warm indoor swimming pool directly after? You know that tingling numbness of the whole body?"

"…. I can't say I've ever done that before, but I'll take your word for it." She paused for a minute clearly thinking about something else. I couldn't imagine why she wouldn't be from what I heard.

"I don't want to talk about me… I don't even want to think about it, I want to talk about you. I missed you; I haven't seen you in about a month. How are things holding up?

"…My sister North calls me your puppet state… She's unhappy with you being there at all. She'll never forgive me and wants to take me over."

"I can't feel you holding my hand…." He sighed then continued after a moment, "She has to stop this, she's killing you can't she see that? The Communist allies are even backing this up… I can't believe that." "You don't know my sister. She would kill if she had to…"

"Don't talk like that… you'll be fine. We're both very strong people."

"Can't we go home to talk about this? I don't like it here… the doctors made me angry."

"I'm not feeling so hot, Kitten. Plus there is an election in January. My new boss might have the same middle name as me." I heard her grunt in frustration just as he cried out in surprise, "Ow! What was that for?!"

"Don't call me Kitten."

"You didn't have to smack me that really hurt."

"….I tapped you on the shoulder…."

"It felt like a smack…."

She sighed a little and I heard what sounded like a kiss, "Stay awake… I don't want to be alone right now." After a few minutes of silence I heard her sigh again and speak up with a determined voice, "Why are you doing these things for me? Answer me."

"…..Democracy."

"Is it, or is it really for me?"

"Can't it be both?"

"….You silly silly man…." Her voice quivered and she started to have trouble hiding her feelings back, "What's going on between us is still a secret. Not even our bosses know… but I have a feeling my sister has suspicions. I can't hide it forever; it's becoming very hard to do…"

"I don't care if people know I love you…."

"That's not what I'm talking about. You're doing all these things for me, and even France is helping which is very sweet but nobody is backing you up in Washington. They don't like your ideas at all and don't seem to like that you have little explanation for it."

"France is the only one who knows the whole story. He's fantastic at keeping a secret and I needed advice. He's your friend, we can trust him. Besides, I don't care. We're keeping it a secret until we can figure something out…" He paused for a moment and I heard him shift in the bed a little, "Why are you so scared? You're trembling."

"She's not very strong and might not make it…."

"Who's not strong?"

"…our Peanut."

"It's a she?"

"Yes… but she's weak, too much stress. The doctor said she's too tiny, I don't think she'll make it."

There was more silence, but more sullen and melancholy than before, "Oh god…. I'm so sorry." I heard him reply muffled like he hugged her tight, "Why aren't you resting?"

"I can't, we're at war!" She sobbed lightly into his chest for a moment, "And if I did people might find out about her. It's getting too hard to keep a secret. I'm so tired and beaten up… It was the worst timing in the world, and wasn't even planned, you know that! It was an accident and you're trying to live the life of a normal person and you can't do that. You're going after some dream that I can't follow. We have to live lives without love. You set your goals a little too high."

"No I haven't. People can do anything if they put their minds and some elbow grease into it…"

"America… tell me what your dream is…."

"…Democracy… freedom for everyone. To keep doing what I'm doing now but to have a family to come home to, my own house with one of those white picket fences I keep hearing about. A wife who's strong and smart.….. What is your dream South Vietnam?"

"…. To be happy."

I felt so sorry for her but I didn't want to get in the middle of their business either. I never spoke a word of what I heard to anyone. I also know that she'd hate to know that I felt sorry for her; she was a strong independent person and was also quite prideful. America was always very optimistic, but I wasn't. We're two very different people but we were both guilty of trying to mature too fast.

She got me thinking though. I agree with everything she said. The most we can ever have is admitting love. That comes rarely as well but it's a wonderful thing. It's something that I've always had telling someone myself but awhile ago I did have someone tell me those words. I never expected that.

I remember it like it was yesterday. January 19th, 1943, I was at work going through some papers and plans for the war when I heard the door open slowly. It was Netherlands, he was still looking rather skinny and underfed but was in better shape than the last time I seen him.

He's been living here since 1940 along with his boss's family during Germany's occupation of his land. It was a stressful time but I was oddly happy he was there. I found myself really enjoying his company. When I had the time to return to my house the kitchen as always spotless and a few times he managed to get some German sausages into the fridge.

He had this cheerier look on his face this time and closed the door behind him. I was planning on heading somewhere to aid the war later that day but without knowing it I ended up with other plans. "The Princess had a girl…." He nodded as he leaned against the doorway.

"I had the maternity ward of the Ottawa Civic Hospital temporarily declared extraterritorial…. Her citizenship will be entirely be reflected by her mothers. That way she'll be solely Dutch."

"You even have our flag waving… who told you?"

"My boss did. I wanted to make sure she didn't end up a Canadian citizen."

He didn't say anything else for a moment and approached me with a weak step, "Why are you doing these things?"

I didn't know how to answer that, instead I just scratched my head and blushed a little, "It's a war. We have to look out for each other, right?"

By this point he was directly in front of me, staring me down with a confusing gaze. I honestly had no idea what he was thinking. I was still a little nervous around him and that wasn't helping at all.

"Don't tell anyone I said this but…. Ik ben in liefde met u."

It was the happiest and scariest moment of my life. Of course I didn't tell anyone, but I felt the same way. I didn't have to tell him, he already knew. It's difficult when countries fall in love like that, we just can't jump into a relationship or have dates. More times than most you have feelings but nothing ever happens with them, you do what's best for politics sake and just hope that they know and feel the same way. The odd occasion you'd cross paths again, but there is always that hope in the back of your head that maybe, just maybe this time will be different. I was happy just hearing him say those words, but

I never expected what happened next. In 1945 Netherlands sent 100,000 tulips to Ottawa in gratitude for sheltering Princess Juliana and her daughters during the Nazi occupation. In 1946 another 20, 500 were sent, and another 10,000 every year since. He was one of the first people who never forgot about me and we stayed very close ever since. He comes every year in May and celebrates the Tulip festival with me. It was more than I could ever ask for. Even if people have a hard time remembering me because I'm not loud, or violent, at least he still does and that makes everything worthwhile because

I didn't do it for fame… I never did. I find it easier to show how I feel than explain it. Every year in May

I end up with a special bouquet in my house of tulips in my favorite color, red as the brightest rubies.

He always told me that I really did have pride in myself, maybe it's about time I really showed it.

I was half awake and very heavily sedated. Still feeling like I was in still deep in hell I opened my eyes weakly and could almost see the most unusual water fall of blue and white stripes hanging before me. Maybe it was a powerful spirit who came to take me away from hell. It slowly moved away from me and I tried to reach after it. "Don't go; take my brother with us…"

"You're finally awake." I heard a voice say and a warm hand grabbed mine.

My eyes focused a bit better when my glasses were put back on, all cleaned and fixed back to the way they used to look. It was Netherlands, standing next to the bed in the middle of the night.

"You're a dream aren't you?" I asked grabbing his scarf, "You're going to tell me to wake up and I'll be back in the snow, aren't I? Don't tell me to wake up; I want to stay where it's warm."

"Calm down, it's not a dream. You'll never be lost in the mountains again, I promise."

I could see his face finally through the dim light, except this time I was the one looking thin and pale. With a quivering lip I reached up and hugged him tight just to make sure, "I did it… I breathed like a dragon and they saw me…. they really saw me. Everything really is ok."

He hugged me back without hesitation but didn't say anything. There was something heavy on his mind

I could tell but he wouldn't let go.

"You can take me home now… I can give Kuma…Kumay-yoshi all the fish he wants."

"You have only been here for a day, not even that. You can't come home."

"….Then…. you can stay? I don't want to be here alone anymore. Everyone is driving me crazy."

"I can't do that either."

I let go and looked at him with fear in my eyes, "….No, why? Everyone is telling me I'm confused and asking me the same things over and over again… nobody will tell me anything… it's like I'm invisible! Please don't leave me here."

"I told you, the Queen is ill… I shouldn't have even left. I've been here for a few hours but I can't stay." With a morose voice he looked away from me for a moment, "Remember we said that we can't always be together, that politics will always get in the way? Countries will never be able to enjoy love, it's impossible for us. Something will always come up. We live lives of sad loneliness, pointless bickering, and looking out for everybody before yourself. But what we do have is time… I will see you again. There will always be another meeting, more travel, and more work. That is when we'll meet if not then in May. You'll feel better then and it'll be a happier time. I can't leave duty for personal business, you know that."

I hugged him tight again this time with a tear in my eye. I knew that he was right… but I'm a sensitive guy who will never remember that. I'm like France in that way, the hopeless romantic but much shyer. Was it selfish of me to want a relationship I could come home to, where we could curl up by the fire and just spend time together doing sweet nothings? Yes it was, because we can never do that.

"Lie to me…" I whispered sniffing his scarf as I hugged him, "Tell me you'll be here all night, tell me I will wake up and find you here …lie to me so I can dream happier. It'll be sad in the morning but just for the night let me dream."

After a minute he let go and kissed me, "I'll be here tonight, sitting in this chair watching you. They'll let me smoke so it's fine. I'll be here in the morning."

I closed my eyes trying not to cry anymore and lay back in bed, "Ik ben in liefde met u."


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28.

Two days later it was yet another freezing afternoon, so cold the glass had frost on the outside of it. Britain sat in a chair in the hallway of the 4th floor of the hospital, elbow rested on his knee, and eyes buried in the palm of his hand wanting to try anything to stay awake.

"I'm sorry I'm late…" France spoke up approaching him from the elevator with a paper bag under his arm and brushing show off of his coat.

"You're always late."

"No I'm not… I was…"

"Yes you are and I'm not in the mood."

"…I was talking to my boss. I returning to Dead City tomorrow, he sent some troops over there already and I didn't like what I heard…."

Britain instantly lowered his hand and looked back at France over his fingers in complete silence. That was a name he didn't want to hear ever again, "….You what?"

France's eyes were pools of blue sadness, not the bright self he usually was. Not a smile, not even a crack against Britain. He was completely serious with something clearly still bothering him, "They found 105 frozen mummies in that house all ranging from ages 6 to 80…. All dressed in white and seem to have died from ingesting some kind of poison." He paused for a moment when a nurse walked by them and paged for Dr. Bordeaux, "Some of them were partially eaten by animals…"

"Why do you want to go back, are you daft?!"

"We're going to tearing the house down, giving all the bodies an unmarked burial, and Dead man's Road is being permanently closed. I won't have any more people hurt by going there."

"Why don't you sit down, France?"

"You didn't see what I saw… the tombstone that was found next to Canada and America when they were located had MY name written on it… painted recently! It said Francis Bonnefoy right across the front of it. They wanted me the whole time but got them instead… how would you feel? This isn't their fault or your fault or the resorts fault… it's my fault for getting the idea, and it's my fault because I was the target. I want to fix this…."

"It was an accident, idiot…I for one and tired of everyone blaming themselves. I've told you for years and years this stuff is real and you never believed me until now. I suggest you bury the past with those mummies. When has blame ever fixed anything?"

"Fine… I won't go. But if we hear about this again I'm going to blaming you for stopping me."

Footsteps echoed behind them breaking the conversation into an awkward silence. A door opened up nearby and South Vietnam walked out quietly. The three of them looked at each other before she bowed a little and headed down the hall without a word.

"What's she doing here?"

"Visiting America." France replied taking a blue berry muffin out of the paper bag and handed it to him.

"…I didn't know they were friends." He caught it slightly confused but even more confused when France only chuckled at that and turned to find the Doctor approaching them.

Putting on a brave face France hid his worries behind his usual confident smile, "Docteur Bordeaux, là vous êtes."

"Ahh, bon après-midi. Je suis heureux vous suis arrive." He chimed checking something at the nurse's desk before approaching them, "I'm glad you made it, there is lots to discuss."

"Well let's get on with it then, I've been waiting for a donkey's age." Britain got up and crossed his arms hoping for some good news.

"We've had to separate them into different rooms. They were confusing the nurses." He started off and walked to the entrance of a room nearby. Inside was America lying in bed, flat on his back, and barely moving. It wasn't clear if he was sleeping or not because he was covered in heavy blankets. There was an empty bed next to him where Canada used to be and left behind was some of his things and the vase of Irises. "I'll try to keep this in laymen's terms. Mr. Jones has improved dramatically since he arrived. Upon arrival his body temperature was 25 Celsius, complete loss of consciousness, nearly had kidney failure but did end up with cardiac arrest and clinical death for 2 minutes before he was revived again. It took a long time but we managed to get him stabilized and his temperature has increased. He also had a fairly infected wound on his arm but we've clean and stitched it up. He's not there yet but is on the road to recovery and will be just fine. Miss. Nguyen informed me that he was awake for a few hours yesterday in the early morning but was heavily medicated and didn't remember anything off hand. He's been asleep ever since. There is, however, some nerve damage to his hands." The doctor approached him quietly and pointed out his swollen hands, beat red, with painful blisters on the knuckles, "He will probably lose feeling in his fingers due to nerve damage."

Britain sighed heavily and buried his face into his hands again, "Oh bloody hell, He was clinically dead…"

"Yes but he's stable now. He's still too weak to be on his own but in to time he'll be fine. If he stopped treatment now he'd be at a very high risk for a heart attack."

Taking a closer look Britain found his eye glasses on the table next to a pile of scotch mints. Puzzled where those came from he ignored it, "You don't look right without these…" He spoke up quietly and put America's glasses back on, "There, now stop being an idiot and wake up, will you? You've had your fun and made us all worry; now it's time to knock it off…"In a light huff he returned to where the doctor and France were standing in the hallway, "I hope there is better news coming."

"Good news and bad news. Mr. Williams arrived in bad shape himself. Depressed closed skull fracture, concussion, broken rib, heavy bruises all across the chest and hip, and a broken patella. Those injuries will heal over time, but it was the fracture that caused some issues. The fragments were causing pressure on the brain which led to eventual swelling and at least two seizures. With proper medication we brought down the swelling a fair amount and there haven't been anymore issues regarding that… however…."

"There is that however again…."

America slowly woke up without the others knowing it. With a heart feeling heavy from what South Vietnam told him earlier he sighed and waited for his eyes to focus better. Without any sign of her or how long he was asleep he started to become more alert when he looked around and found himself to be in the hospital. "How'd I get here? Oh god the avalanche… that haunted path…"

Continuing on without noticing him the doctor flipped through some papers on his clip board, "He went for surgery this morning to mend the fracture, and is currently across the hall sleeping. I'm a neurosurgeon by trade and threw some of the tests I put him through I did notice some brain damage."

Britain and France looked at him livid, "Excuse me?" France exclaimed

"Now calm down it's nothing severe. It's just a mild case of frontal lobe syndrome. All that has been affected is his personality and a touch of memory. His voice is quieter, he has a shorter temper, and is easily frustrated but still tries hard to suppress it, some memory issues but they only seem to involve himself. He has fine memory with others, but he has troubles remembering things about himself which includes his past, and generally names." The doctor looked at him over his glasses, "Someone came to visit him awhile ago, a man in a blue and white scarf. He brought Mr. Williams polar bear who has been sitting in his room ever since. Mr. Williams has yet to remember what the bear is named. Oddly enough neither has the bear. He's become so quiet I almost forgot what room we put him in. He's still the same person, with the same intelligence, but with some slight troubles. It may fade away in time but there is really no way to tell. The both of them should be free to go in a few days but I want them both to see either me or their doctor for tests to make sure everything is alright."

Feeling a little alarmed America looked around the room and didn't like what he saw. The bed next to his was empty, but Canada's coat was left limp over the bed. "…What?" It was then he started to hear the conversation going on in the hallway.

"Mon dieu…."

"Shit… listen, this does not leave the three of us, understand? If America heard about this he would lose his mind. It's best if he doesn't know anything about what happened to his brother until he's better again. Do not tell him… It's best to leave him in happy ignorance."

"Of course"

"No…. No it can't be…." It was too much information to take at once. Blood boiling with rage and heart breaking from the pain he sat up and disconnected everything he was attached to. Growing alert to the sound of the heart monitor flat lining he ran into America's room and found him furiously staring back at him with very weak eyes and shaky arms.

"I'd get back in bed if I were you, please…"

"You shut up!" He screamed pointing right at him, "This is all your fault! He was fine when I saw him… now what happened?"

"That was beyond our control… We did the best we could; now please if you don't get back in bed you could have a heart attack."

Britain and France ran in a state of shock wishing they told the Dr. Bordeaux just how strong America really was.

"I could lose Peanut and now my own brother is dead… I nearly killed myself trying to bring us back safely and you let him die, and then you try to hide it from me? How dare you!"

That's when the doctor made the wrong move and took a step closer, "…Who's Peanut?"

Truly terrifying when he was angry America grabbed him by the coat and threw him across the room, into the hallway, and against the wall with a heavy crash. Britain and France dove out of the way to avoid getting hit, "America, stop it! You don't know the whole story!" France cried out and ran after the doctor to check on him.

"What else are you not telling me?!"

"Knock it off idiot!" Britain approached him and grabbed his wrists in any attempt to calm him down,

"I know and you know that if you wanted to you could flatten everyone on this floor, so calm down. Your brother isn't dead… do you hear me? He's not dead; he's sleeping in the next room."

America paused for a moment and looked back at him with terrified eyes, breathing heavy like he just ran a marathon, and more confused than anything, "…If you're lying to me…"

"I'm not a liar. You're not helping anybody by acting out. For god sakes get back in bed before your heart stops!"

The doctor came back into the room nursing his shoulder, "Holy smokes you have a good throwing arm…" He gasped and approached with caution, "How are you feeling, son?"

"…. A little light headed…." Still unsure America backed up a little like a scared animal.

Without thinking twice the doctor hit the call button for back up and turned to Britain and France, "Can you two step outside for a moment?" and the second they left two nurses came in closing the door behind them.

"… Mon dieu, teenagers have such emotion…"

"Gee, I wonder where they got it from…"

"What is that supposed to mean?!"

Britain didn't reply and looked down the empty hallway for a moment, focused on something. To France's view there was nothing there. "What the bloody…." He could have swore that he saw a woman in a long white robe walking down the hallway, a woman with a pale face and frost in her hair.

"…What are you looking at?"

"….Nothing… just a bad memory that's all."


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29.

It's amazing how fast time can fly when you're asleep for days. After awhile I totally lost track of what day it was. The past few days have left me to ponder many things about the world around us. Sitting in a hospital bed with a broken knee will really give you time to think. I was never happier the day I got out, unfortunately they wanted me to keep checking in with a doctor every week until they said otherwise. They also said that the fracture left some damage. I didn't dare tell anyone about it though. There is so much going on in the world besides what's going on in my head. When you're the personification of a country you really get used to the idea that your personal opinions don't matter as much as the opinions of the entire population. Your entire existence focuses on making other people happy and being surrounded by war and politics for them. I can handle that kind of a life, so it doesn't bother me.

I wouldn't have it any other way. I guess that's because I never knew anything different, this is how I was raised. I kept what I heard between South Vietnam and America to myself, it wasn't my business to interfere but it did get me thinking. What would I want my life to be if I was a regular guy? I imagine doing that I loved. I'd be in the back country working on that house I've been trying to finish building. Making the lumber myself and working on finishing the foundation. It would take years but that is what

I liked about it. I guess I'd be a carpenter or a contractor, I'd have a partner at home and every night we'd have time to ourselves, sitting by the fire or watching a movie. Maybe even get married one day. But this is my life, I'm needed to be here and I won't abandon anyone. I can't. There will always be another world meeting, another war, or more politics. There will always be someone not getting along.

I would love a world that would resolve their troubles with something other than fighting but that's an idealistic dream. It wasn't too long after my brother and I were released that there was another World Meeting. This time it was in Berlin, and there were lots to discuss due to the cold war. I managed to get there on time, but it wasn't easy while using crutches. Kumayoshi was behind me, being very sweet about things. I didn't hear him complain once. I was the second person to arrive there; Britain was the first as usual. He didn't see me arrive and continued drawing on the chalkboard. As for myself I was going through caffeine withdrawal and my temperament was short. Soon the others would arrive, France would be late and Germany would arrive on time, almost to the minute. When America made it he made himself known as usual, but this time he was walking a little funny hand his hands were bandaged up pretty well. He just went on like they weren't even there. I brought a package with me but it was best to bring it up when it was less busy.

Netherlands arrived with Belgium next to him, but she stopped to chat with Spain. Something he didn't like at all. I could hear them arguing by the door, "You know she's my sister right?"

"Huh?" Spain replied nervously, "Well yeah…."

"Then I would appreciate it if you didn't stare at her like she was a piece of meat."

"Oh stop it, we're just friends. You know that." Belgium smiled but it didn't seem to make him feel any better.

He was being his usual intimidating self, he hated Spain. He sat down next to me and winked at me, "You're looking better. Your eyes aren't as black as they used to be."

I smiled shyly and looked away from him with a whisper of a reply, "Thank you I think."

"When were you released?"

"….Yesterday."

"Wow, you probably haven't even been home yet." I dug into his pocket and placed a neatly wrapped up package on the papers before me, very tidy with no strings, "Here… try some Kerststol."

"Kers…" I had trouble pronouncing it but he cut me off,

"Kerststol, its Christmas cake made with cranberries and brandy."

Kumajurry tried a piece and loved it so I had to try myself. I wasn't a big fan of cranberries but it was amazing, plus it felt good to eat something that wasn't pudding. "Oh wow… did you make this?"

He nodded as more and more people arrived, "Meet me in the hallway during break." He whispered as we prepared for it to start.

"OW, damn it!" America cried out sitting next to me and desperately trying to open his bottle of cola to no avail. Everyone couldn't help but stare as he cradled his bandaged hands feeling pain in the wrists from trying to open it. Just as he looked back at the bottle someone reached over with a bottle opener on their keychain and popped it off for him. Germany put his keys back and returned to his paperwork that was neatly stacked in front of him. "Thank's dude…"

"Did you want me to start the meeting this time?"

"Oh no, that's alright. I can start off this crowd."

The meeting finally started and it went off as usual. In a few minutes Britain and France would start to argue again. America would butt in then eventually, and around the 15 minute mark Germany would get angry and yell at everyone to settle down. I found myself looking at the work I brought, I made several points but it was too loud to mention them yet… I'd get my turn soon I bet. Instead I started to draw leaves all over the page, elm, oak, pine… then drew a maple leaf. I'm not sure what it was but there was something about that one I liked. From under the table I loosely held Netherlands hand. He didn't seem to mind and didn't let go. I was just glad he was there.

"Everyone shut up! " Germany got up and yelled, right on time. From there the meeting moved smoothly, it was always rough at first.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there as much as I wanted to…." Netherlands whispered into my ear.

Something I didn't expect at all, "its fine… there is always May."

The Tulip Festival, I looked forward to it every May. That meant I could see him again. No we'll probably never get beyond a sparse relationship. Politics would never allow it. Even if we could there would always be something dragging us apart or keeping us away from each other. I'm not the only one who felt it; you know the powerful love for someone that feels like a stab in the heart every time you think of them. France knows all too well about love. His whole life he has been chasing after someone who will probably never love him back. The best he gets out of the one he loves petty arguments. After all it was France that told me that "Love cannot live forever, yet we are timeless. Therefore we will never experience true love. We are destined to fight." Although I know how much of that is true I still wish it wasn't. Britain feels love; in fact he's one of the most sensitive people I know. But he hides his emotions so well you'd think he didn't have any. It's a defense mechanism for him. He fell in love with someone a long time ago, but never forgave them after he realized he confused them for a female and broke his heart.

America loves South Vietnam with all of his heart; I know he wants to marry her. It's very clear to me because I know him so well. He's forever optimistic and will always believe that he could pull it off. You know that dream of his where he can have that regular family life as well as his duties. I vowed to stay out of it knowing it was more personal than political, but it still pains me to see that. It's sad to think that in the future South Vietnam would die under the hands of her sister. Where she perished North took over and unified the country alone. I can't blame North Vietnam; I don't know enough of why this started to really blame anyone. Honestly it's just the way the cards were dealt and in a war there are no winners or villains, everyone has their own view and it's simply a conflict of different ideals. But threw time I always saw South Vietnam's picture in America's wallet. Since then he'd have trouble talking about it and sometimes his story would change regarding that war. Right next to her photo was a picture of a tiny Asian new born no bigger than 3 pounds with the name Nguyen Tu Kim written on it. America never did tell anybody about that, and I for that matter have no idea what happened. There's a chance she really didn't make it, but then again there's also a chance that somewhere in Ho Chi Minh City there is a Vietnamese-American girl playing without the slightest idea of her true origin.

That's the dark side of our lives. Every single one of us puts on a brave face. Being timeless means you live far extended lives than average people. Every last one of us has experienced darkness, blood, pain and sorrow beyond any average person's comprehension. There is blood in our past than you think and everyone holds a secret from everyone else. Nobody else could handle that but us. We have to, so we put on a brave face and continue on as if nothing bad ever happened. Behind every smile there is a heart aching in pain. Love may never find us, and we may never rest or get to express our own opinions, but there is one thing that holds us all together. I'm lucky to have Netherlands. We still see each other as often as we can and it's more than some other countries have I know but we'll always be just good friends. But there is one thing that keeps me going and I would never change my life for. Family. Through all the pain, and sorrow, when you feel like you have nothing left you will always have family. England, France, and America will always be my family even if we don't always get long. After all he's teaching me to express myself more, to really say what's on my mind more often instead of hiding it like robot.

During the break I stood out in the hallway and leaned against the wall to rest the heavy cast on my leg. Several people brushed past me talking amongst themselves as I waited for America to walk by. He finally turned the corner pitching the soda bottle into the trash when I waved him down, "Over here…"

He approached me curiously, "Huh? What's up, bro?"

"I um… wanted to give you this…" I stammered quieter than usual and handed him a small box a bit bigger than a sheet of paper and wrapped in bright blue foil, his favorite color.

"What is this for? It's not Christmas anymore."  
"No, I know. It's a thank you gift…"

"For what?"

"You tried to save my life…. For all the things you did for us. You truly were a hero that day."

He didn't say anything at first, I guess I blindsided him with it. With an honest smile that ran right to the heart I could tell it was still fresh on his mind, "You really think so?" but paused when he opened the package. His eyes grew wider, his mouth dropped, and he was suddenly unable to speak. Inside the box was a comic book, but not just any comic. It was Superman #1 in mint condition. After a moment he was finally able to say something, "S-Superman… number 1…. Oh my god! How did you ever find this!?"

"It was mine, I own every issue."

"I… I.. oh my god you are the best brother ever!" He hugged me tightly and lifted me right off the ground in sheer excitement.

"…Air!"

"I'll be right back…" America cheered again and still carefully handling it like it was a Ming China vase he ran off proudly showing it off, "Hey guys! You'll never believe this!"

It was well worth the trouble. I had to have it sent to me from home to make it here on time but I'm glad I did. I felt better now after all the things I said. I still believe that I started that avalanche. I should never have gotten angry.

I stayed where I was waiting for Netherlands to pop by but it didn't take long to feel a cold hand on my shoulder. I smiled a little at that until I saw Netherlands down the hallway quickly talking to Belgium. Something whispered into my ear, a voice that shook my soul like never before, and something that almost brought me to tears right there. The same disembodied voice that was trying to get America and me to kill each other out there in the Alps, the cackling mad voice that led us to Dead City. "_Suivez-moi, France ... dans les arbres ... être avec nous ... mourir avec nous ..._" ("Follow me, France… in the trees… be with us… die with us")

Fin...?

continued in the sequel "The Return to Dead City"  
s/9038496/1/The-Return-to-Dead-City


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